A Crown of Golden Leaves III
by Embrasia
Summary: A newlywed Arthur & Gwen brace the challenges of ruling a kingdom, avoiding war with Sarrum, & appeasing the gods themselves. While Merlin juggles the stresses of living up to his royal lineage, fulfilling his destiny, & becoming a father. When it proves too much for Merlin will Gwen & Arthur be able to save him & the future of Albion? WARNING: Very mature sex and violence :)
1. Tournament of Champions

**Author's Note: Chapters 1 & 2 have switched places. Please be sure to read them both :^)**

**-Embrasia-**

Tournament of Champions

"Don't move," Gwen said as Arthur's gorgeous blue eyes began to blink open with the rising sun.

Confused and sleepy Arthur gazed around the chamber that beautiful morning. There she was, his bride, the love of his life, her breathtaking figure wrapped loosely in just a sheet as she sat behind her easel sketching his glorious likeness.

"But I have to pee Guinevere," Arthur wined childishly with a pouty lip.

And now it was Gwen's turn to pout, "Okay."

Though Arthur was practically bursting he did not rise from her bed, still tousled from last night's love fest, "How long have you been drawing me?"

"For around two hours," She admitted, her dainty fingertips blackened with charcoal.

"When would you be finished?"

"In about a half hour," She clutched her sheet and walked over to him smiling happily, knowing that Arthur would sooner strain his body than let her down in anyway. She leaned over to place a lingering kiss upon his lips, sweet and meaningful.

She took up her charcoal and traced lines on the bed sheet around his body to mark his position, "Go Arthur."

"Are you sure? I would hold it," He offered.

"I know," She mused. "And that's the very reason I don't want you to."

Arthur practically ran to the chamber pot to relieve himself. Gwen could not help but giggle at the "Ahhhhhh" that escaped his beautiful lips.

Realizing her peculiar situation she began to laugh at herself. _What kind of_ _queen finds joy in the simplest of her king's functions? I must be either completely insane or deliriously in love. It is the private things that no one else sees or even cares about that make me love him the most. Those occasional belches and soft snores, the sprints to the chamber pot, are what make him my husband; and while all of Camelot has their king I'll always have my Arthur…_

Arthur returned to her, his adorable face scrunched in wonder as he tried to figure out what was so funny. Gwen kissed his lips and assured him, "It's nothing Arthur."

She gingerly touched his handsome face accidently transferring a little charcoal to his cheek, the midnight dust glowing against the contrast of his creamy white skin. He grinned devilishly and stole another kiss from her plump wet lips before returning to his pose. She returned to her easel, the two of them floating in comfortable silence as she etched line after delicate line on the page. Gwen smiled ever softly as the magnificent form of her golden haired knight continued to emerge. Soon she was finished and beckoned him over. Arthur smiled and embraced her from behind wrapping his arms around her middle.

"It's an incredible likeness," He spoke dreamily as he placed sweet kisses on the side of her face. "You are amazing Guinevere."

She spun in his strong arms and gazed up at him, "I love you. Never leave me Arthur."

He grinned stupidly and hefted her sheet draped body up into his arms. His hands supporting her by her soft round bottom as her legs instinctively wrapped around his back and her hands encircled his neck. They kissed slowly savoring every moment as he carried her to the bed and laid her body upon the cool sheets, sporadic moans and half sentences escaping the two of them with every tender and passionate caress.

"I love you too," he said breathlessly as he slid inch by inch into her warmth her back arching with his deep and loving penetration.

Her eyelids fluttered like the wings of a butterfly as her dusty fingertips streaked his back with charcoal. She sank her teeth into his flexing shoulder to keep from crying out as he welded his hips to hers. She smiled softly as they fell into rhythm, a tear of joy leaving her eye and trickling back into her dark hair. _While all of Camelot has their king I'll always have my Arthur…_

xXx

Kilgharrah was born a dragon child and as such could transform from beast to human form at will. This brave and virtuous fighter had been dubbed Sir Kay by Arthur of Camelot. Kilgharrah felt like a pet dog being renamed. But Arthur being Arthur had claimed Kilgharrah's Pagan name was just too long and annoying to pronounce, let alone spell on documents. Arthur said Sir Kay sounded more noble and befitting of a Knight of the Round Table. And Kilgharrah was hence forth known as Sir Kay.

Kilgharrah covered one nostril with his finger and breathed soft flames from the other. He turned his head to and fro lighting fire to the wood planks in the belly of his cook stove. His batter was already prepared and soon there where pancakes, sausages, and eggs sizzling in fry pans. His sister Freya was becoming increasingly fatigued from her pregnancy so he and Merlin helped out around the house. Though it irritated the rather independent Freya who was use to taking care of herself as well as looking after her brother and husband.

As he cooked his mind drifted to where it always did. For as handsome and charming as he was, Kay was extremely shy when it came to women. Freya was shocked to hear of his night of passion on the Isle of the Blessed. Usually a brother would not confess such a sin to his sister, but there was nothing the two of them could not talk about and he was in trifling need of advice. The woman Kay fancied had once refused the advances of a lecherous god and been cursed with immortality as a punishment. Aithusa, as she was called, had lived for over a millennia but still bore the appearance of a seventeen year old girl. Having buried a husband, all five of her children, and every friend and relative she ever loved she retreated to the deserted Isle of the blessed to live as a recluse. Aithusa told Kay that their special night could be their only night, and that she would rather face eternity alone than bear the loss of another man she loved. It was hard but he respected her wishes and did not return to see her, though he thought of her all the time.

Sir Kay walked to the large picture window as the sausages were finishing. They lived in the most exquisite little home just on the outskirts of Camelot. It was surrounded by snowcapped mountains, a few fields, wildflowers, and a lake. He had been planning to move before Freya and Merlin's baby arrived so that they would have more space but Freya threw a fit and Merlin simply would not hear of it. They claimed their baby would need its Uncle Kay. They added an additional wing to the cottage instead. Now it was like two beautiful homes connected in the center.

Kay fixed the steaming plates and sat them on the table with an extra helping of strawberries for his sister. It seemed Freya could never get enough of them these days. He rang the bell. Breakfast was served. Moments later Freya waddled in rubbing her tired eyes with a sleepy looking Merlin right behind her.

"Kilgharrah," She brooded and put her fists on her hips. "I appreciate the gesture but I can do it myself."

Merlin and Kay chuckled and mouthed the words as she said them, having heard this speech many times. They ate in comfortable silence. The sunlight shone behind Freya's brother, obscuring his features but outlining his broad-shouldered form. His hair was peculiar but fitting: short and just a little spiky on top, raven black with blood red tips. It put her in the mind of the fires he breathed with ease and grace. Kay was a fine knight smart, charming, powerful, and cunning. Freya couldn't stop the smile that flitted across her face briefly as her brutally honest conscience snickered at her internal monologue. She was of course biased and perhaps had a slightly inflated opinion of the man.

Freya turned to Merlin, the keeper of her heart and soul. She admired his florescent blue eyes wondering if their baby would be blessed with them. The sun rose and set on him. He was the only man in the world she loved more than Kilgharrah. She leaned over to place a sweet kiss upon his cheek as she enjoyed a meal with her two favorite men.

xXx

Arthur's agitated fingers drummed at the large round table. Everyone was in attendance and chatting quietly among themselves but two. Arthur stared at the empty seats wishing he had informed Sir Kay rather than Merlin that due to Camelot hosting the Tournament of Champions they were supposed to meet early today. Sir Kay would have seen to it he and his brother in law arrived on time. But now Merlin had caused both of them to be late.

Arthur turned to Elyan, "Do you know where Merlin is?" Elyan shrugged. A furious Arthur rose from his seat, "Does anyone know where Merlin is?! MERLIN!"

xXx

Kilgharrah hopped along the floor hastily putting on his boots, "Thanks for telling me at the last minute Young Warlock!"

"I forgot," Merlin swore in his own defense.

Freya chuckled as the guys scrambled about. Merlin hugged her around her belly and left a lingering kiss upon her neck that set her body on fire.

"That's how you got the first one," Kay snatched Merlin by the back of his shirt. They hurried out the door. "Just great! You would pull this shit on the day our stallions are at the veterinarian. The palace is at least an hour's walk from here."

Merlin gave his infectious grin, "I have no intention of walking."

"I'm not a horse Merlin."

"Please, we're already late."

"This once," Kay relented. He stretched his arms out at full length, threw his head back and spun like a top. He whirled until the earth became a blinding blur. The winds around his body began to form a tornado. With the force of the powerful gusts he began to lift from the ground. A mighty dragon emerged from the diminishing funnel cloud. Merlin climbed up just behind the horns on his head. Kay flapped his enormous bat like wings and flew with all haste to castle Pendragon…

xXx

Later that bright summer day the aroma of sweet cinnamon bread and roasted turkey legs whirled throughout the roaring arena. Ladies and gentlemen young and old, noble and common, ecstatically waived hand flags bearing the crests and colors of their favorite knights. Armor clad contenders from all over had arrived to joust and fight and compete for a chest of gold and to bring fame, honor and glory back to their kingdoms.

Gwen, Morgana, and Freya watched the competitions from a private stadium box. While good looking serving men filled their goblets with wine and juice and circled the box with platters of assorted cheeses, meats, bread and grapes. Gwen straightened the skirts of her beautiful purple gown. Her long wavy tresses lay braided in the front and wrapped elegantly around her head, while the rest of her beautiful locks hung down her back.

Next to her Morgana sipped tangy sweet wine from her goblet; she wore a shoulder bearing red dress, and a jeweled chain that hung elegantly across her forehead. Her raven black tendrils were pulled up in a lovely due while she inconspicuously met eyes with her brother's champion.

Gorgeous Freya sat in royal blue nibbling at the fruit and cheeses, making certain to get enough down for baby. She was barely into her second trimester but her belly was so big you could see it from behind her. Her big brother Kilgharrah informed her that dragon children are hereditary. These children of magic only needed half the gestational time of a normal baby so at a little over four months Freya and Merlin were soon to be parents.

"Careful," Gwen cautioned as she helped her pregnant friend out of the chair.

"Thank you Gwen," Freya smiled.

"Don't thank me. Make me god mum," Gwen said excitedly.

"No. I'm going to be god mum," Morgana protested at once with an indignant look.

Freya giggled at their bickering. Gwen and Morgana had been having this same argument for weeks now. Freya waddled around the stadium booth to get some circulation moving in her swollen feet. She spotted Merlin in the distance and blew a kiss at him. He caught it and placed it over his heart. As huge as she was he still treated her like the most irresistible woman in the world; always rubbing her puffy ankles and telling her how beautiful she was. Freya thanked the gods every day that her prince of Rome had given up his Crown of Golden Leaves just for the chance to love her: a Britain slave.

Gwen stood and walked to the boxes edge with a smooth gliding gate that exuded pure elegance. She looked down at Arthur unable to contain her ecstatic grin as his stormy blue eyes gazed up at her from beneath the raised face mask of his helmet. With a heart throbbing smirk he raised his long wooden lance toward her. She pulled a decorated ring the size of a desert plate from the end of Arthur's lance. She hadn't even noticed until now that she'd been holding her breath, and her mind wondered how even a cocky half smirk from Arthur could capture the very air from her being. If not for her skin she might have gone everywhere at once but she maintained her steady and regal countenance.

With an elegant nod and a graceful curtsy Gwen returned to her seat fighting the urge to fan herself. _Arthur my Arthur you give me fever…_

Arthur trotted on his shiny black steed over toward a grassy area with numerous pitched tents. He tossed his helmet to Merlin before climbing down from his horse. With the discovery of Merlin's lineage as well as his usefulness and loyalty Arthur appointed him Roman ambassador and high counsel. Merlin no longer had to play man servant. But when it came to tournaments Merlin yearned to be at the ground floor in the middle of all the excitement. Knights weaved all around him. Stepping in and out of the equipment tents as a confident Arthur sauntered over.

Merlin smirked, "I've got to hand it to you. If nothing else its certainly an original coronation present." Arthur gave him the don't start with me look but as always Merlin was undaunted. "Well… as romantic gestures go you could have given her flowers. You could have had a song written. Instead you've given her two days of sweaty men knocking the sense out of each other."

"Exactly as it should be," Arthur grinned and slapped Merlin on the back. "My father had a tournament before his wedding. I didn't have the chance to do that so I'm giving Guinevere a tournament for her coronation. Today's main event will be the sword competition. Tomorrow we'll have the joust."

"So its not even an original gesture then."

Arthur waved him off and turned back to the glorious vision that was his queen, "I think my wife understands." Arthur gave Gwen his full glorious smile as she retrieved the ring Sir Percival won for her. She was breathtaking in purple, especially as she bent over at the waist to collect each trinket from the knights. It looked as if she would spill right out of her low cut bodice. She blushed a little at the heaviness of Arthur's gaze.

Arthur bit his lip hungrily. _Guinevere my Guinevere you give me fever…_

But there was something Arthur had been too distracted by Gwen to notice. Gwen had graciously accepted every single token by herself but when Sir Percival trotted over on his steed Morgana Pendragon rose with her, wishing him well and giving him a perfumed token of her affection to tie to his armor. Percival closed his twinkle blue eyes just briefly and kissed the trinket, its refreshing jasmine scent a sudden and much appreciated escape. Then he attached it to his sleeveless chainmail. With a warm smile and a nod Percival said congrats to Gwen and farewell to Morgana. He trotted over to Arthur and Merlin and dismounted his horse. Arthur wasn't stupid; he knew there was something between his sister and the knight. The king just didn't know how serious it was.

Gwen arched an accusing brow at Morgana, "Wow… that was subtle."

"Whatever do you mean," Morgana chimed innocently. "I was merely congratulating a knight of Camelot."

Gwen, having always been the more blatant of the two, whisper yelled, "You and Sir Percival obviously humped."

Morgana gasped, "I beg your pardon!"

Gwen dismissed the servants momentarily. She was unable to hide her excitement. "Details! Details now!"

Morgana quietly filled in her adopted sister as well as Freya about the forbidden night of passion under the stars in the enchanted forest. But she omitted her plans to step down as Ealdor's queen in order to wed the common born knight. Under her ex's influence Morgana had wanted nothing more than to destroy her illegitimate brother and take his kingdom. But as she and Sir Percival grew closer she wanted nothing more than to become one family one kingdom. She didn't understand what Percival did to her. All she knew was that she liked it and she like him. He made her feel happy, safe, loved.

"It's so romantic," Freya gushed wiping an emotional tear. When the baby wasn't making her hungry it was making her cry over every little thing.

The crowd erupted in a thunderous roar of applause unlike any they had ever witnessed. Even Arthur had not received such an entrance and he was the king. Morgana ceased her gossiping. She, Gwen, and Freya rose slowly and peered down at the stadium's dirt floor.

Arthur watched from the sideline with Percival, Gwaine, Elyan, Leon, and Merlin. A knight in robes of gold galloped at full speed with an aimed lance. He speared one of the hanging decorated rings with ease. Confidently trotted over to Gwen. A plethora of ecstatic screaming maidens threw handkerchiefs and trinkets onto the arena floor just praying that theirs would be the token this stately knight festooned his armor with.

"Who on earth is that," Arthur questioned.

"No idea," Merlin admitted while the knights just stood with puzzled looks on their handsome faces.

The mounted contender flipped up his face mask baring eyes of the deepest blue and short dark brown hair and Percival sank as he realized what the crowd already knew. This knight with the golden cape was none other than Prince Valiant, Morgana's very recent ex.

Valiant spoke charmingly as he directed his voice up toward the stadium box, "It is my understanding that whoever wins today's sword competition is blessed with the honor of escorting the king's sister to this evening's banquet."

Morgana willed her voice not to tremor and her breathing to steady, "Tis milord."

"Then I shall try with all my might to win," With a final wink at Morgana, the celebrity of a knight trotted toward the armory tents.

A strange and uneasy feeling began to burn in the pit of Percival's stomach. He sighed as he fiddled with the plain gold band he had purchased to propose to Morgana. Even having spent every coin in his pouch, the ring he bought would not be half as lavish as any trinket her doting prince could furnish her with. He grew overwhelmed with a sudden rush of embarrassment and inadequacy.

Arthur gaped at the ring in Percival's massive palm, "Were you thinking about proposing?"

"Oh… of course not," Percival stammered. "She's a queen. She's out of my league."

Arthur reminded him, "Valiant may be _a _prince. But you are _her _prince. Morgana would give up everything for you."

"That's just it Arthur. She shouldn't have to," Percival's head lowered and his shoulders slumped forward in defeat as he walked away with his unworthy gift.


	2. Unleashing the Beast

**Author's Note: Chapters 1 & 2 have switched places. Please be sure to read them both :^)**

**-Embrasia-**

Unleashing the Beast

Cenred gagged, coughed, and hollered himself awake as the icy bucket of salt water splashed him in the face. He stood limply weakly in the dreary gray torture cell with his aching arms chained over his head. The frigid uninviting water running down his gorgeous olive toned face, stinging his chestnut eyes. The freezing cold salt water streamed from his wavy shoulder length locks, biting into the open lashes on his naked back. He'd seen at least four sunrises since he'd been ambushed, captured, detained. It was beginning to feel like his overextended shoulders were dislocating.

"I could have your head with a snap of my fingers!" Cenred bellowed between rasping breaths as his golden haired tormentor weaved a staggered line between the heavy shackles and chains that dangled from the high stone ceiling. The place reminded Cenred of a depraved wind chime as he stood with his ankles shackled to the floor and his wrists stretched high above him. She had made certain to restrain him in the center of the room so she could hurt him from every angle.

"Do you have any idea who I am?!" Cenred bellowed.

The beautiful but wicked woman with honey colored eyes, and a red and silver gown that fit her curvy body like a glove merely smirked, "You are Caesar, Emperor of Rome. But the more important question is do you know who I am?"

"A dirty evil bitch," He growled with great fortitude, but knew very well that her name was Morgause. "A soon to be dead dirty evil bitch."

"Wrong answer," A sinister smile played across her lips as she reached toward him with a palm size insect.

Cenred's eyes grew large. His heart pounded. He'd been tortured by these venomous creatures for days. He didn't know how he was still alive, "No… No! AHHH!" He screamed as the shiny black scorpion stung him on the chest repeatedly. Its excruciating venom seared throughout his body. Within minutes he was woozy, nauseous, dazed."

Morgause returned the scorpion to its aquarium with the rest of its deadly brethren. She retrieved the whip from her table of knives, hooks, and pliers. She reared back as far as she could reach. The whip made a faint whistling sound as it glided through the air. It struck Cenreds flesh. His back arched with the brutal contact. He released an ear piercing wail of pain. She held no sympathy for the monster who had run a sword through her betrothed three and a half years ago. She wanted Cenred to suffer as she had. Morgause would have killed him if it weren't for the fact that she needed his army, his cunning, his diabolical brilliance. No unfortunately she could not murder Cenred... at least not yet.

She circled him as if he were her prey, swatting the palm of her hand with the bullwhip, debating were to strike his beautiful body next. As Cenred stood chained up at her mercy she eyed his godlike broad shouldered form, the way the water made his wavy tresses cling to his handsome face, the way his dark brown leather pants fit his cute little ass just perfectly. He winced as she grabbed a handful of his hair.

She yanked his head back. Whispered in his ear, "You are by far the prettiest man I have ever had to break but I will break you! Now address me as Mistress and your suffering will end."

"I would rather die than yield," He heaved breathlessly.

She shoved his head forward and released his hair. Sweeping the dark strands from her hands that had been pulled out. She walked in front of Cenred facing this raven haired Adonis. He was at least a full head taller than her and carved from a solid slate of muscle but the high priestess was undaunted. She used her whip to hook his neck. Yanked his furious face down to hers.

With their foreheads pressed together and their mouths so close she could feel the steam from his breath she warned him coldly, "I will break you."

"Never"

After being bound and whipped and beaten Cenred thought he'd seen the worst of her torture but no amount of combat training prepared him for what was to come next. She cast the black leather whip aside. His heart raced as her fingertips gingerly brushed his bearded cheeks, and traveled down the sensitive skin of his neck causing him to draw in a sharp breath. Her hands slid over the water slick muscles of his chest, his small masculine nipples peaking with the curious caress. She traveled further down his washboard abs, shining in the torch light with a mixture of sea water and blood. Soon she cupped his manhood over the leather pants firmly enough for it to hurt and brought her soft pink lips up to his rapidly breathing mouth.

Rather than a kiss she bit his lip and lapped a single drop of blood from it. _My gods he even tastes good._ Her body shivered and she took a moment to regain her senses. _He's a mark, a target, a murderer _she reminded herself, and with an irresistible smack of his phenomenal leather clad backside Morgause took a step back.

He reeled away as far as his chains would allow him. _This horrible witch is enjoying this_, "You're insane. You're sick."

"If I'm sick then why does he," Her eyes dropped below Cenred's waste, "Want to fuck me?"

Cenred had no excuse for the massive erection she had given him. Some very dark part of him enjoyed the pain; for the torture intensified the pleasure that much more.

"May the gods have mercy on you because I will not," Cenred warned his beautiful nemesis with a cold emotionless smile.

"You will address me as mistress or I will beat you to death in this cell," She balled up her fist, sent a devastating blow to his kidney. Pain seared throughout his body. She had knocked the wind out of him.

She brought the back of her hand across his face so hard he would have sworn she'd knocked his teeth loose. But he released none; just an agonizing yelp and a bit of blood and still his body burned for her, his cock growing harder by the second as his darkness began to overtake him. Cenred grew weaker with her punches and lashes and brutal assaults but the beast inside of him grew more powerful. The General, as Cenred called his darker personality, was born of pain and therefore thrived in it lived to inflict it upon others. Morgause was well aware of Cenred's fragile mental state. And for what she had planned she needed a partner even more ruthless than herself, a maniacal man from the fires of the underworld who took no prisoners and showed no mercy.

She proceeded to beat Cenred until he lost consciousness just as she'd done the last four days. She administered the antidote so he wouldn't perish as a result of his scorpion stings. Then for some reason unbeknownst to her she stole a kiss from his limp unconscious face. She left the cold torch lit dungeon grinning excitedly, wickedly. Morgause had not broken Cenred this day but earlier she spied on him through a crevice in the stone walls. She could see the mighty Roman Caesar arguing with an invisible person. Cenred's mental state was becoming just ripe for the picking and one day soon she was certain to unleash the beast who would aide her in the murder of Arthur and Guinevere. Morgause made her way through the cold torch lit corridors of the dark tower. _The Pendragon family has taken everything from me. It's time I took it all back. I think I'll cleave Gwen's pretty little head from her lifeless corpse and plunge it on a spit. Arthur I will fillet and disembowel like a fish. And Morgana, oh Morgana, she will have the most excruciating demise of all…_

**I have noticed that I never receive reviews from guys, which makes me curious if men even read my stories lol. So if you happen to have a penis please represent and drop me a comment, suggestion, or request. And of course all my girls out there are always welcome to hit me up. As this is the third part of a trilogy feel free to ask questions and I will get you up to speed. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I hope you check out the rest of the story soon! :^)**

**-Embrasia-**


	3. Impending Doom

**Author's Note: This message is for Guest reviewer. I love Morgana/Percival as well because I feel he has the gentleness to balance her out, but unfortunately I am probably the only one on the planet who ships them lol. ****I'm glad you enjoy my strange little paring &** Thank you for reviewing! :^)

**-Embrasia-**

Impending Doom

Gwen apologized to Morgana at once, "I'm so sorry. Arthur and I added a date with you as a perk to draw more contenders to the tournament. The money benefits orphans. But that was before we knew for certain about Percival and before we knew your ex would be here."

When Morgana caught her breath she informed Gwen, "I know, I agreed to the date. It seemed harmless at the time. Valiant cannot win this competition!"

"Morgana you're not thinking of using magic to make sure Valiant loses are you?"

"The man will not take no for an answer. And Gods only know what Valiant will do to Percival if he's found out about us. Valiant is not the kind of prince who will stand for being bested by a common born knight of an enemy kingdom."

"Still you cannot cheat," Gwen cautioned. "If you're caught no knight will ever again brace Camelot's gates for tournament. While here the knights visit taverns and blacksmiths, restaurants and tailors, there are even some who turn down palace lodging to stay in the inns of the lower village so they're closer to the taverns, and ladies, and after parties. Our subjects thrive on the revenue they bring. Have faith in Arthur. He will not allow harm to come to his friends."

She nodded knowing that Gwen was right. Percival and Arthur would never want anyone to cheat for them, no matter the price. And Arthur would face a thousand deaths before allowing one of his knights to be killed before his eyes. A sense of pride warmed Morgana's lovely porcelain face as she looked upon the girl she'd helped to raise. At a tender seventeen summers Gwen had grown up to be wise and strong. She was the queen Camelot deserved. And Arthur was just fourteen and already becoming the king of legend. This made Morgana's decision to step down and combine she and Arthur's kingdoms that much easier.

xXx

After winning three sword matches with ease young Arthur lost the fourth in a very close battle. Gwaine won his first two matches and victory just narrowly escaped him on the third. Elyan and Leon had done well but were ultimately eliminated. Tristan and Kilgharrah were knights of Camelot but preferred real life combat. They informed Arthur that they were soldiers, not performing circus monkeys so during tournaments they drank honey mead and cheered on their comrades from the stands.

Percival had won four matches so far. He was the only knight bearing Camelot red who was still in the running. Prince Valiant had swept this competition, even defeating Morgana's champions Sir Alvarr, Sir Julius, and Sir Mordred. Now Sir Percival was squaring off with the ironclad knight. Percival fought with all his might but his phenomenal strength would only get him so far. Swordsmanship took a great deal of skill and strategy and Valiant was an expert swordsman. Valiant came at the rookie knight with everything. The senior champion taunted the new comer as he landed every well executed strike on Percival's armor.

Valiant yelled as he swung and lunged, "The biggest problem!" bang of the sword. "I have with you country illegitimate knights!" a well-executed block and then a brutal strike to Percival's shoulder. "Is that you can't even defend yourselves! Let alone a crown!"

Gwen, Morgana, and Freya watched in horror. It was apparent to the girls that Valiant knew about Percival and Morgana, but how? What would anyone have to gain by telling him?

Valiant countered Percival's attacks and kicked him to the ground. Valiant raised a sword over him. A thunderous clang sounded throughout the Arena as Arthur's sword blocked Valiant's from impaling Percival.

"You win!" Arthur bellowed at the knight with the golden cape and the shield that bore a triscillian of snakes. "This is a competition, practice, not war!"

Arthur helped Percival up, "Are you alright?" Breathless and aching all over, Percival simply nodded. "Go drink some water and have the surgeon examine your shoulder."

"Yes Sire"

Valiant taunted Percival smugly, "Giving up so soon. Cowardly and illegitimate."

Before Arthur could speak a word Percival's large hands had snatched Valiant up by his chest armor. It took at least four knights to pry him off.

Arthur shouted at his furious knight, "Save it for tomorrow's joust Sir Percival!"

"He's quite the nobleman," Valiant laughed sarcastically at the outburst he had coaxed Percival into having.

Arthur grudgingly raised Valiant's metal gloved hand and announced him the victor. The crowd went wild, waving banners of gold, throwing roses at Prince Valiant's feet. The victor took a bow as expected and then jogged to catch up with a furious Arthur.

"I know why you're here," Arthur growled as they trudged shoulder to shoulder. "Stay away from my sister."

"I am not my father Odin," Valiant said in his own defense.

"Your worse!" Arthur ceased before a green striped armory tent. "King Odin's grief for his slain son has fueled a bitter rivalry between us. I don't hate your father. I pity him."

"Because you killed my brother."

"Because you have everyone fooled," Arthur laughed without humor. "King Odin had five sons by his first wife, you being the oldest. But he was so in love with his second wife that the only child he had by her quickly became his favorite. Odin named his youngest heir over you. You hated the boy."

Valiant shook his head in shock, his voice little more than a murmur, "How… how do you know this?"

"You pushed him to fight me knowing I would kill him. I begged him to withdraw his challenge but he wouldn't. He needed so desperately to prove himself to you, to at last be loved and accepted by you that he had to do your bidding. He looked so scared…" Arthur's voice trailed off. His eyes became a little glossy at the memory of the tender young life he'd been forced to end with Excalibur. He stopped to take a long breath and then another. "Your father hates me when in all actuality it was you who got his boy killed."

Valiant could not deny his jealousy, his treachery, "I can't undo it. But I can still fix the feud between our families. Give me your sister's hand. Our marriage could bring peace between the kingdoms."

"Your relationship would do nothing but turn her against me." Arthur growled furiously, "As it has always done before. You've won your date fair and square but after tonight's dinner stay away from Morgana."

xXx

Percival winced slightly in pain as he sat upon the cot. The surgeon had bandaged Percival's aching shoulder and informed him that he was a little banged up but there shouldn't be any permanent damage. The doctor administered a pain remedy and left him to rest for a spell. Percival's soreness felt well worth it as he remembered the beautiful smile his beloved gave him just before the match. But would she still want him now: a loser? He wanted so badly to win for Morgana. He sank at the thought of his defeat.

"I'm sorry I failed you Sire," Percival spoke solemnly as Arthur entered the surgeon's tent. "You and the others have brought many first place trophies home to Camelot. I only yearned to add to your glorious bounty."

"We have taken first place many times," Arthur smiled at his benevolent and loyal friend, "But those victories took training and time. And even I did not place at my first tournament but you have. You did great."

"Thank you," Percival nodded knowing he could not have pledged his loyalties to a greater king than Arthur.

"If you are feeling up to it you have lots of visitors," Arthur informed him peeling up the cloth door of the roomy tent.

A grin lit Percival's face as Merlin, the red caped Knights of the Round Table, and the black caped knights of Ealdor began to file in with mugs of ale chanting and cheering, "FOR HE'S A JOLLY GOOD FELLOW! FOR HE'S A JOLLY GOOD FELLOW! FOR HE'S A JOLLY GOOD FELLOOOOOWWWW! WHICH NOBODY CAN DENY!"

Percival accepted a congratulatory brew and celebrated with Arthur and the boys. They clinked their large metal mugs drinking and singing off key.

"Are we interrupting," Gwen laughed as she entered, and right behind her were Morgana and Freya.

The men straightened up at once and hid their beers, "Your Majesty."

"Milady"

"Milady"

Percival yearned for nothing more than to throw his good arm around Morgana but for propriety's sake he bent at the waste to place a gentle kiss upon the hands of all three ladies.

"You were all amazing today," Gwen chimed. "There's no need to stop celebrating on account of us."

The men carried on with their obnoxious singing and rough housing as Arthur lay a phenomenal kiss on his bride. It was sensual but needy, like he was starving for it all day.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world." Arthur whispered when he let her up for breath, the two of them still panting in each other's embrace.

xXx

Valiant grit his teeth, shaking with fury as he walked past the infirmary tent. His phenomenal victory was short lived. All of Britain was lauding his name but the one person he needed to cheer for him was the only one who didn't. Morgana was too busy gushing over Percival for winning second place, which was quite an accomplishment for a first year knight. Both she and Gwen lavished Arthur with praise for winning third and applauded Gwaine, Elyan, Leon, Mordred, Julius and Alvarr for placing in the top ten. Morgana didn't give a damn about Valiant's landslide win. Valiant fumed. Steam was rising off of him. As soon as he was in his equipment tent away from the eyes of his myriad of worshipers he cursed, and thrashed, and tore the place apart.

xXx

Arthur swung Guinevere around deliriously happy as they joined the others in song.

"WHICH NOBODY CAN DENY! WHICH NOBODY CAN DENY! FOR HE'S A JOLLY GOOD FELLOOOOOWWWW! WHICH NOBODY CAN DENY!"

They laughed and cheered and drank with no one aware of the poisonous atmosphere looming, permeating the clear skies of Camelot, the surmounting impending doom…

**Author's Note:** **This fic, like all my fics, will feature seasons' 1-4 bamf Gwen. Not the useless defenseless house wife they turned her into in season 5. Am I the only one who shed a tear of mourning for the badass Guinevere that use to go on adventures with Arthur, and was actually handy in a fight? What are your thoughts on this?**

**-Embrasia-**


	4. Warrior Bride

Warrior Bride

Gwen could not breathe as her very heart lodged itself in her throat. One of King Sarrum's warriors had Arthur pinned with a heavy sword to the back of his neck. Every knight in Camelot began to unsheathe their swords at once. As did Sarrum's soldiers.

Subtle applause broke out in the training grounds, cutting the stifling tension. Sarrum signaled his warrior to conclude the training exercise and Arthur rose to his feet. The knights of Camelot and Ealdor sheathed their swords as they saw Arthur was fine.

"You fight bravely," Sarrum said as he met Arthur out on the field.

Arthur replied, "Your man wields a sword better than any I have ever met."

"I trained him myself," Sarrum gloated. "Perhaps one day I'll teach you."

"I'll be honored," Arthur said, successfully hiding his contempt for Sarrum. _Politics is an ugly business. At times one has to make peace with terrible men for the greater good of the Kingdom._

Sarrum bought Arthur's foe sincerity. With a cocky smirk and a slap on Arthur's shoulder King Sarrum slithered back to his company of soldiers.

As other knights continued to spar in the background Gwen abandoned all etiquette. She picked up her skirts and hurried onto the grassy field. She needed to be in her husband's arms now, "Arthur."

"It's alright Guinevere," He gave her a one armed hug and kissed her temple.

"I don't trust him," She whispered to Arthur while smiling graciously over at their guest of honor.

"That's because you are the wisest woman I have ever known," Arthur flirted with a gentle press of his lips to hers. "Worry not. If Sarrum harmed me he would have to answer to the knights of Camelot."

"If Sarrum harmed you he would have to answer to the Queen of Camelot."

"The most frightening notion of all," Arthur snickered, but knew very well she was serious. Gwen handled a sword with the same grace and undaunted strength as she handled the crown. Arthur's knuckles gingerly grazed up and down her soft cinnamon colored cheek, his eyes closed for just a moment to block out everything but the feel of her, the sweet lavender scent of her. He had to admit. _I never wanted some queen who would spend her days floating around the castle agreeing with my every word. That is why I love you so much Guinevere. You are my warrior bride._

Just a simple touch from Arthur ignited Gwen with flames from the tips of her toes up to the crown of her head. She pulled his hand over to her supple wet lips and kissed his palm softly, the tender embrace causing him to breathe in sharply. She reluctantly pulled his hand down from her cheek and a flash of disappointment filled his eyes. There were times when she and Arthur had to remind themselves where they were.

"We're just training Guinevere," Arthur assured her once he had cleared his mind of all naughty images, "By all means carry on with your planning my love."

She breathed a sigh of relief silently mouthing _I love you_ as she slowly backed her way toward the castle.

_I love you to, _Arthur mouthed back with a thoughtful smile. At his beautiful silent words she turned and hurried into the palace. There was so much to do before tonight's banquet that she hardly knew where to start.

xXx

Gwen's vast regiment of serving men and women filed into the decorated banquet hall, their hard soled shoes clacking against the stone floors as they fell into their staunch formation. She was hosting her first banquet and it had to be perfect. She gave a respectful nod to her chief of staff, a very competent and responsible young man named George. He could clean the uncleanable, serve the unserveable. This rather straight laced and stately man was a god among servants. George had taken over as Arthur's manservant after Merlin was promoted. Though George was a phenomenally better manservant than Merlin had been, Arthur still complained that George was dull and that the man even made joked about brass. But Gwen knew deep down that Arthur simply missed spending much of his day with Merlin, though the arrogant prat would sooner die 1000 excruciating deaths than admit this.

Guinevere addressed her waiting audience, "First I would like to say that you have all done a phenomenal job. This palace looks spectacular and I am certain tonight's banquet will be no less which is why I am giving you all a bonus. Thank you for all that you do."

Some of the servants gasped in shock. Others were a little embarrassed. They had never been acknowledged for anything even though they were the very legs that Camelot stood upon. George just smiled to himself with a feeling of utter happiness. _Gwen is just the Queen Camelot needs: a beautiful mixture of wisdom, humility, and honor_.

She proceeded to divvy up responsibilities, tasks, and assignments. Gwen turned to a slender young woman with a gray scarf wrapped about her hair, "Drea I know you usually serve Sir Percival but there's been a change of plans. You have been reassigned to wait upon Prince Valiant."

"Is he polite milady?" Drea questioned meekly with a hint of concern in her voice.

"Very," Gwen assured her. "I've never seen Valiant be rude to a woman no matter her station. Now men on the other hand…" Gwen sucked in sharply between her teeth.

The pretty young woman breathed a sigh of relief, even laughed a bit at her queen's brutal honesty.

Gwen informed her, "Sir Valiant is a professional competitor and therefore picky about his diet. I've written you a list."

"Thank you, your majesty," Drea retrieved the letter and prepared to read it out loud just to make sure that she could properly decipher Gwen's fancy curling script. "Prince Valiant of the Western Isles shall require exactly: 8 ripe cherries, 1 medium sized egg, 12 cheese cubes, a bed of mixed greens, and one whole chicken breast trimmed of all skin and fat roasted with a wedge of lemon."

Gwen nodded, "That's exactly it."

"There won't be so much as a cherry out of place milady," Drea vowed before taking off to gather supplies.

Gwen turned to her chief of staff, "George I need a servant of your caliber to wait upon my most unwelcome guest of all."

George's serious face actually let out a rare snicker, "King Sarrum."

"He is the most evil man I've ever met but we must make a truce with him or else Queen Morgana will be in danger," Gwen explained. "King Sarrum has been intent upon murdering her since the moment it was revealed that she possessed magic. He feels that only the Gods themselves should have powers and any human with such gifts is an abomination. He's sadistic and heartless though he believes himself charming and charismatic. And you are the only servant I can think of who will be able to be in his presence without displaying repulsion and fear."

He nodded, "I won't let you down milady."

The gaggle of servants rushed over to a long table to pick up the list of duties assigned to them. They went their separate ways determined to make their most humble and considerate queen proud.

George walked up to Gwen greeting her formally, "Your grace."

"George," Gwen greeted back.

"I couldn't help but notice that you've assigned no one to the Lady Vivian."

Gwen just smiled shaking her head with amusement. _Nothing gets passed this man. _Gwen spoke in a low voice little more than a whisper, "Well you see George the Lady Vivian has a good heart but she distrusts servants so much she would rather retrieve her own dinner than be waited on."

Stern and stately George gasped at such an appalling notion. _A lady of the court waiting on herself! _"I implore you to give me a chance to win her over milady."

"She will treat you with nothing but disdain," Gwen warned. "Back in Rome Lady Vivian grew up with a horrible step mother who beat her and locked her in a cellar the moment Lord Olaf left for war. This is one of the reasons Vivian's social skills suffered. When Lord Olaf returned and found out the abuse Vivian sustained he blamed himself and vowed to never allow any harm to come to her again. Lord Olaf imprisoned his wicked wife for the rest of her life and he became very over protective of his daughter. Because of this Vivian's maids would pretend to be her friends only to betray her every secret. Once on a moonless night a chambermaid spotted Vivian in the garden kissing a boy. The maid could not see the young man's face but she naturally assumed it was the court's bad boy."

"Sir Gwaine," George concluded.

Gwen nodded, "Do to Gwaine's reputation for being a rebel and a shameless flirt the maid told Lord Olaf that's who she saw Vivian with. Without hesitation or question Olaf challenged the innocent Gwaine to a duel. They battled neck and neck until Gwaine was temporarily blinded by the sun. Olaf landed a strike that nearly killed him. Olaf didn't find out until after the duel that Gwaine had been innocent. Vivian and Gwaine weren't attracted to one another. They didn't even like each other. Vivian found him boorish and distasteful, even once referred to him as a childish brute. Gwaine had always found Vivian to be wound too tightly for his taste, even calling her a haughty snob and a bitch. But Vivian still felt awful for what her ambitious servant had caused and nursed Gwaine back to health. When he revived to the vision of her beautiful relieved face he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her long and deep. She sat at his bedside heaving breathlessly, her eyes asking what had just happened between them. To which Gwaine replied with a devilish smirk, 'Hell I've already taken the punishment. I might as well commit the crime.' She fell in love with him in that moment but hated and distrusted servants ever since."

"I see"

"Any other servant would be ecstatic to hear that their burden has been lightened." Gwen tried to cheer him up. She gave a sympathetic smile. "Don't take it personally. You're a wonderful servant. I would be lost without you George."

He forced a small smile for her and the queen left to carry out other duties. George slumped. His work defined him. For the first time ever he felt purposeless. In all his time as the chief of staff he'd never come across an unserveable person. He felt defeated as he gazed down into the courtyard and his eyes fell upon Vivian. She was sharing a spot of tea with her favorite knight, now her husband. Her twinkle blue eyes illuminated with overwhelming happiness as Gwaine pulled an orange and black butterfly from her golden tresses and placed it into her palm. George would have sworn the knight had given her a brick of gold, the way she lit up like a sunrise gingerly adoring the butterfly until it flew away. A tiny green inch worm crawled onto their blanket and Vivian showed no less care with it, pulling out her field journal and adding a sloppy sketch of the creature. She briefly recorded every characteristic she could gather. Vivian loved insects, though a peculiar fancy for a woman to have.

George smiled brightly at this new found knowledge. He'd never had an unsatisfied guest and he was not about to tarnish his good name now. Sir Gwaine was a knight of Camelot. As such his Lady should feel at home here and George had vowed with every fiber of his being to make this happen.

xXx

Freya skid to a stop at the end of the corridor. Any icy shiver trickled down her spine. It was too late to turn back. He had already seen her.

"Hello my beautiful princess of Rome," King Sarrum called in his best effort to sound charming, but to Freya's ears his voice seemed a wicked banshee call.

Everything about this man offended her senses; the look of his balding wrinkled head, the sound of his creepy voice, and especially the scent of him: like the brimstone of a hell fire. She held her breath and curtsied, "Milord."

"Motherhood becomes you," His slithery lips violated the back of her hand.

She fought the urge to cringe and spoke to the floor, "Thank you milord."

His rough calloused finger scraped the underside of her chin as he adjusted her face to meet his. She snapped her head down and to the right on instinct alone. He apologized but she still did not feel at ease and neither did her unborn child. Her fetus began to kick, and thrash, and buck wildly inside of her as if it were distressed or suffocating.

"I'm sorry milord. I am unwell." Freya fled as fast as her swollen feet allowed her to waddle. She rubbed the sides of her belly to calm the precious little one. She needed her husband. She needed him now. Freya hobbled onto her balcony, her hips and back aching from moving so swiftly with extra weight on her front. "Merlin!" she screamed with the pungent odor of brimstone forever burned into her nostrils. The agitated little one pressing up on her ribcage so hard pain surged across her chest, "Merlin!"

Merlin bolted up from the courtyard. He took the stairs two at a time until he had found his wife's chamber. He burst in, "Freya! Are you in labor?!"

She shook her head no with tears pouring.

He encircled her with his arms and just held her for a minute or two, "What's wrong my love?"

"Its king Sarrum," She wept. "He frightens me."

He comforted his terrified wife, wiping tears from her large doe eyes with the pads of his thumbs. He assured her, "You are tired Freya. Kay and I have asked you a hundred times to slow down. I know you want to help Gwen but she will understand if you take a nap from time to time."

Freya nodded against his tear soaked tunic, laughing a little at herself, "This pregnancy is making me crazy. All Sarrum did was complement me actually."

Merlin wrapped an arm around where her waist used to be and guided her over to the large cozy bed. He pulled back the covers and they kicked off their shoes. He gently slid the dress down off of her shoulders leaving her beautiful motherly form in just a thin satin slip. He tossed his shirt, abandoned his pants in a crumpled pile on the floor, and climbed in with her. Merlin placed a warm kiss upon her forehead and her tense muscles slacked with his loving caress. He gingerly rubbed her thinly veiled body, her tender breasts, and her firm round belly until Baby began to calm down at last. They snuggled between the covers and all was right with the world again.

Merlin smiled and dropped a lingering kiss into her soft coffee colored hair, "Its natural to be afraid of strangers Freya."

"But that's just it Merlin," Freya swallowed hard a cold sensation sweeping over her.

Merlin could feel her skin prickle beneath the sensitive flesh of his palm, "What do you mean Freya?"

She drew in a deep breath and then another, "I don't fear Sarrum because I don't know him. I fear Sarrum because it feels as if I do."

"That's impossible, you haven't been to Britain since you were a baby," Merlin assured her and she smiled softly and kissed the tip of his nose.

At the look of relief on her face Merlin asked joyfully, "So how's baby? I'd bet both of you are craving something."

"Strawberries," Freya said sweetly.

Merlin clasped his hands together and whispered an incantation into his palms. But as he opened his hand there sat a beautiful red flower.

Freya giggled, "That's not a strawberry."

"It's the right color," Merlin grinned brightly as he gingerly placed it into her hair.

With his second attempt he brought forth a juicy ripe strawberry. He fed it to her and kissed the drops of tangy nectar from her mouth, as their tongues danced gracefully together; their hands caressing each other's bodies.

xXx

"Drea!" Percival called cheerfully. He was already salivating over the basket of goodies in her clutches. Arthur always made fun of his massive appetite. It seemed Percival was always hungry.

"Sir Percival" The maid smiled and greeted the friendly knight.

Knowing she had always been assigned to him, the famished knight immediately reached into the basket and snacked on the fruit before she got a chance to warn him.

Valiant snapped as he approached, "I beg your pardon!"

A confused Percival turned slowly with his mouth too full to talk.

"I'm assigned to Valiant today," Drea explained meekly and turned to her charge. "I shall fetch you another basket milord." She bolted at the furious gleam in Valiant's eyes even though the glare was not directed toward her.

"Are those my cherries you are eating?" Valiant growled. His ocean blue eyes narrowed on Percival. "You have a trifling habit of touching my things. I don't like people touching my things."

Percival discarded the seeds and swallowed the rest of the delicious fruit. He spoke smoothly, not the least bit ruffled, "Shall I assume this conversation is not about your dinner Milord?"

"I am talking about a whole lot more than my dinner. Morgana was always honest about the man she met at a ball ten years ago, who swept her off her feet for just one night. But it was Morgause who informed me that man was you. I would sooner cut your throat than see Morgana married to a common sailor parading as a nobleman."

"You don't even care about her. You just care about winning. Her majesty is not some tournament trophy!"

"You're beneath her," Valiant spoke calmly, pleased that he could rattle the young knight. "You know this as well as I do."

"What bothers you more Valiant that I am common or that I am competition?"

At that Valiant laughed hysterically, "You are many vile things but when it comes to facing me the one thing you will never be is competition."

Percival wanted to punch him. He needed to punch him but refused to sink to his level this time. Instead Percival inserted the last piece of sweet tangy fruit into his mouth taunting his arrogant enemy with its deliciousness, its juiciness.

"Mmmm that was positively sinful" Percival bowed respectfully to his superior and politely excused himself; he called back over his shoulder in a voice smoother than velvet cake, "Now I've popped both of your cherries milord."

This time it was Valiant that charged forward like a raging bull, "Is it a fight you want!"

"He isn't worth it!" Sarrum called as he restrained his cousin Valiant. "Do you want her majesty to see you fist fighting like a common thug?!"

At that Valiant calmed down and snatched his arms free, "What do you care? You've hated Morgana from the moment it came to light about her magic."

Sarrum grinned ever slightly. _My feelings haven't changed toward Morgana. The moment you are lord of her lands I fully intend to see to it she has a rather unfortunate accident… _

xXx

"Promise you won't do anything stupid," Vivian sniffled as a furious Gwaine paced the floors of their bed chamber.

He forced a smile, "You know me."

"Exactly, that's why I am making you promise"

He ceased his pacing and held her to his chest as her tears soaked into his tunic. She didn't want to say what happened but Gwaine, like any concerned husband, was adamant and unrelenting. As a child Vivian had spent endless nights, weeks, years with mice, roaches, and various bugs as her only companions in the dank wine cellar of her family's estate. This was why she gained such a love and fascination of creatures that most men considered to be vermin and most women ran screaming from. So naturally when Vivian spotted King Sarrum and his men using a field mouse they had captured for target practice, she was sickened, horrified. Sarrum was shooting arrows into the cage as a test of accuracy. The mouse was squealing and running for its life. Vivian begged him to stop even offered to pay him for the creature.

Sarrum looked Vivian over and replied, "I know you. You're that Roman harlot who owns that filthy shop in town. You sell disgusting items to good British women."

Sarrum was referring to the couples' boutique Vivian owned in the lower village by the name of _Butterfly Fashions_. There was no secret that Greeks and Romans had a more laid back philosophy on matters of passion, but Sarrum had no right to blatantly disrespect a Lady of the court.

Even Valiant had to speak up, "Your Majesty, cousin, our training activities are obviously offending the fairer sex. Let's just shoot the damn thing later."

"Fine," Sarrum said without bothering to apologize to Vivian for insulting and making fun of her.

"Do you think me a whore Gwaine," Vivian asked. She felt lower than dirt.

Gwaine rubbed her back and spoke into her silvery blonde hair, "Just because a few stuffy Britains don't know how to have fun does not mean there is something wrong with us."

He could feel her bosom swell with a relieved breath and he was glad he could make her feel better but there was yet another problem to address. Since Vivian arrived she had been feeding and fawning over that field mouse. It was brown with a gray patch of fur in the shape of an arrowhead. Which was how she distinguished it from any other. But now she realized she'd done the poor creature a grave injustice by making it trusting of humans.

"They're going to kill her," Vivian cried in her husband's arms.

Gwaine had, had enough. Blinded by rage he stormed toward the door. He was determined to run a sword through Sarrum and rescue his wife's mouse. Gwaine had heard about Sarrum making Freya cry earlier and the knight was fed up with the foul manner in which Sarrum spoke to and in front of Camelot's Ladies. Gwaine was going to challenge this cruel and arrogant king to a duel once and for all. Vivian's pleas fell upon deaf ears until her husband flung open the door. He froze at the sight of a cage at his feet: a cage containing a mouse with an arrow shaped patch of fur. Vivian leapt into his arms. Putting kisses all over his face.

She spoke joyfully, "Why didn't you just tell me you had already stolen her from the vile Sarrum."

"Because I didn't," Gwaine said, his ruggedly handsome face scrunched in confusion as he tried to figure out who would have been nimble enough to rescue his wife's mouse.

"There's a note," Vivian read it aloud:

_Welcome to Camelot._

_Your humble servant,_

_George_

Vivian's eyes practically twinkled as she gave her furry friend a bit of bread and a nice juicy grape from her fruit basket, "We must find this George and thank him."

"As you wish milady," Gwaine extended an arm to his wife, so happy to see her happy. _George is a hell of a servant. I will reward him handsomely for his quick thinking and kindness._

xXx

Percival watched from the parapet as Morgana strolled across the beautiful emerald lawn. The wind gusts blew at her skirt causing the soft material to flirt around her ankles as she walked. He was about to go down to meet her when he noticed that she was approaching Prince Valiant. The prince pulled the most beautiful dazzling necklace from a box. She held up her shimmering black hair so that he could clasp the jewelry in back of her neck.

Percival sighed ruefully and sank. _Maybe Valiant does actually care about Morgana._ _She deserves beautiful things, breathtaking treasures I cannot afford. She deserves a prince and still I can't let her go. I know I'm being selfish to want her, to need her. _As Morgana carried on with her date Percival walked away with the same feeling of defeat that had cursed his soul earlier that morning.

Percival bent a corner and started down a flight of stairs completely numb to all the servants and courtiers buzzing about the castle. He made his way to the knights' quarters with his stomach in knots and his guilt ridden mind racing. If he truly loved Morgana could he allow her to give up her crown?

xXx

At twilight Sir Kay waited in the meadows just beyond Camelot's borders. He stalked about in his enormous dragon form waiting for Arthur and the others to join him. Of only two things the anxious dragon was certain of: first something catastrophic had occurred, and second everyone was keeping him in the dark about it.

Gwen was the first to approach. She had traded her elegant purple gown for a simple white shirt and a pair of riding pants. She wore a fur wrap over her right shoulder and a pair of riding boots that came clear up to her knees. The dragon froze in his tracks, knowing that for Gwen to be dressed like this it did not bode well. Like always Queen Guinevere stood before him a beacon of strength but even in this dying light he could tell from the puffiness of her eyes that she'd been weeping. She felt terrible for making him the last to know but she couldn't risk Kay burning down all of Camelot in a fit of rage.

Kay grew overwhelmed with concern, "What's happened milady? No one else will tell me. His majesty just informed me to meet him out here."

Before Gwen could speak Arthur approached to relieve her of the burden. King Arthur drew in a deep breath, "We have some unfortunate news Sir Kay…"


	5. The Root of All Evil

The Root of All Evil

The consoling voice of Gwen accompanied by a vow of justice from Arthur was the only things keeping the great dragon from slaughtering Sarrum and all of his men. Just ten minutes before Arthur had regretfully and remorsefully informed his fire breathing knight of the most god awful news: that during a brief luncheon Sarrum was bragging about a girl of magic he had captured, a young woman called Aithusa. Sarrum had beaten, starved, and imprisoned her in a dark grungy pit. After trying to climb out numerous times and being unsuccessful the desperate Aithusa morphed into her dragon form in hope of gaining the claws and strength needed to escape. This was a grave mistake. As a dragon she was much too large for the pit. Sarrum actually brandished an elated smile as he boasted of how mangled and broken she became; the black-hearted king even seemed amused with all the injuries and deformities his torture and detainment had caused Aithusa.

Unable to stomach anymore of the grotesque conversation Gwen rose and excused herself from the table. Once the queen made it within the safe confines of her chamber she slid her back down the locked door and cried into her hands, wept for the woman who had saved their lives on the isle of the blessed. Gwen asked herself again and again. _How could anyone be so cruel?!_ _Sarrum is the unholy root of all evil! When Satin goes to bed at night he checks his closet for Lord Sarrum!_

Gwen could not wrap her mind around how she was going to tell Sir Kay this tragic news about the woman he'd fallen irrevocably in love with. Maids, serving men, knights, and ladies of the court came knocking to check on the young queen but Gwen did not allow anyone in until Arthur arrived with a brilliant plan. It would be a stealth mission. Sarrum's lands were three hard days ride each way from Camelot but if they flew they would be there in no time. Arthur proposed a plan to rescue Aithusa and return to Camelot just in time for tonight's banquet, before anyone would notice them missing. Arthur left Leon and Elyan in charge of his duties and important decisions while Morgana left Mordred and Alvarr in charge of hers. Arthur climbed the textured scale covered mountain that was Kilgharrah and then held out a hand for Gwen. Arthur might have argued with her to stay behind where it was safe but he already knew that he hadn't married a stay behind sort of queen. Gwen tightened her sword belt and took her husband's hand. With his aide she climbed up with ease. Merlin, Gwaine, Morgana and Percival all followed suit. The six of them stood in a row just behind the horns of Kay's room size head.

Morgana had traded her beautiful silk dress for a silvery long sleeve shirt with a large metallic belt and a pair of black riding pants but to Percival she looked no less radiant. Her long raven hair lay weaved into a single heavy braid down the middle of her back. Without hesitation, directed by instinct alone, Percival wrapped a massive arm around Morgana to keep her from falling when they took flight. With a bounding run and start Sir Kay took to the night skies.

"Percival," Morgana spoke in little more than a whisper as they flew.

"Milady," He answered respectfully though it felt painful to call her by such formal terms after they had engaged in such intimate and loving acts.

Morgana flinched as if being poked by something sharp and he could tell she hated the formalities as much as he. She took a deep breath and warned him, "If Valiant asks you to have a private chat with him do not grant it. I have known him a very long time which is how I know just how manipulative, cunning, and charismatic he can be."

"Do you believe I am stupid and easily swayed," Percival asked, a little offended.

"Everyone is easily swayed by him," She admitted with a shameful look. "Valiant has a way of exploiting one's weaknesses."

"I'm sorry," Percival pulled her closer. "I did not mean to offend or imply..."

"It's alright," She spun in his arms braiding her fingers at his back. Gazing up at him with troubled green eyes she confessed, "Valiant once talked me into putting a hit out on Arthur."

"I understand," Percival gazed down at her brushing her smooth cheek with the hand that wasn't holding onto Kay's horn. "However, if Valiant asks for an audience with me I must grant it. He outranks me milady."

She nodded nearly in tears fully aware of the catastrophe such an audience could bring about. She looked so upset and yet so lovely. Percival yearned to kiss her concerns away. Her eyes drifted shut as his lips drew closer but the kiss never came. They were in front of others and he had to protect her honor. He had an excuse to hold her for sake of her safety but not an excuse to be kissing her lips though his body was dying for another taste of her. Morgana rubbed the smooth solid biceps that encircled her praying for the day he'd be able to hold her like this all the time. She knew it was wrong but she had made up her mind. She would meet with Sir Percival the moment her obligatory date with Valiant was over.

Gwen nuzzled her back against Arthur's strong rippling chest as he maintained their balance on the flying dragon. Wind blew through their tresses and caused Arthur's chainmail to jingle as they sailed across the heavens. Gwen gazed up and over her right shoulder meeting Arthur's serious and handsome face. His cold stern expression melted away with the fire of her gaze. He craned his neck to drop a sweet peck onto her lips which mounted into a full passionate embrace.

Merlin whispered to Gwaine, "We could all be killed within the hour and look at them."

Gwaine laughed in good spirits, "A warrior learns to enjoy each day as it comes."

"Because he knows it could be his last," Merlin concluded.

The great dragon struggled to maintain his concentration as he glided through the air periodically flapping his wings whenever he felt himself losing altitude. Kay grew ill, weak, broken as every horrible feeling a person could have boiled into one ugly stew. They had to save his beloved. There was no room for failure or defeat. Kay's large yellow eyes narrowed as Sarrum's kingdom honed into view. His superhuman vision allowed him to see the pit which served as a stone hell for his damsel. Even at night several mercenaries were standing guard. A few who had gotten bored were ripping off the clothes of frightened girls who were far too young to be called women. One of Sarrum's vile and despicable men had even taken a young boy to share his company. All of these kids were born with magic so Sarrum did not give a damn if his soldiers raped, maimed, or murdered them. Kay flapped anxiously speeding his journey in order to make it to the druid children on time.

Arthur, Gwen, and their comrades tied black scarfs around their faces. They were soon to descend like ninjas in the night; soon to take on the greatest swordsmen Arthur had ever gone up against. There was no possible way to avoid a fight so Arthur and Gwen prepared themselves for the fight of their lives. The Dragon swooped low. Glided in for a stealthy landing. With magic on hand and gleaming swords at the ready, they had arrived…


	6. Into the Flame

Into the Flame

The cries of the frightened children were only drowned out by the obnoxious hoots, whistles, and demands of Sarrum's mercenaries. King Sarrum was away in Camelot and now his soldiers were enjoying a much longed for night of recreation. Some of these men, and I use that term loosely, had maintained a lustful eye on the prisoners for quite some time while the other guards did not lust for such tender innocent bodies but neither did they care to stop their comrades. In fact they encouraged the perverts to feed their depraved appetites.

Little Jasmine slowly and cautiously backed into a corner of the large tent. Her eyes darted back and forth looking for anything within reach to defend herself. She pried frantically at the silver bracelets which bound her magic. Most frightened children would have obeyed the demands of an authority figure without protest, but the druid children were survivors; and survivors did not go down without a fight. They had been the most insubordinate feisty little bastards the mercenaries had ever had the displeasure of detaining. And now Jasmine's unshakable fortitude had both shocked and intrigued the barrel chested guard. This small cocoa skinned girl denied his rather peculiar request and she was not backing down.

"Come now child," He beckoned.

Jasmine vehemently shook her head no; the beads hanging from her countless tiny braids rattled with the movements. Her large mahogany eyes narrowed to slits as she grabbed a letter opener. "Stay back!" She swiped at the large man, undaunted by his sheer enormity. Jasmine's father was Aglain, wise and noble chieftain of the western clans. Aglain had passed on no shortage of leadership and bravery to his daughter.

The once intrigued guard was now bordering frustration and fury. He would have been done by now if she would only cooperate. The wicked man reached out for Jasmine. She sliced his hand and swore to the gods that she would either escape this hell tonight or die fighting for freedom…

xXx

There were several roomy tents surrounding Aithusa's prison and Gwen could only assume that was because the sleazy scoundrels wanted their privacy. Gwen was shaking with repulsion and anger and Morgana was gripping a gold encrusted dagger so hard her knuckles were white. But the women put a cap on their emotions and awaited Arthur's signal. With ninja-like dexterity Gwen, Arthur, Morgana, Percival, Merlin, Kay, and Gwaine hid in the shadows until the moment was right. They crept up like thieves in the night sidestepping and ducking behind obstructions. Upon Arthur's signal they split up.

_Arthur_ reached a brown glowing tent. He could already tell by the shadows cast upon the cloth walls there was a rather large man inside looming over a young girl. Arthur slipped in as silent as a ghost. Sure enough there was a brown skinned girl of ten or eleven slicing at the brute, with one hand and clutching her torn dress with the other. Arthur put a finger to his lips begging for the child's silence which she granted just praying that this masked man could be the one to save her and her people. Arthur stretched out the length of wire holding it tautly between its small wooden handles. Before his enemy could turn, fight, or plead a furious Arthur had garroted him.

Arthur took off with the girl. They were spotted by the watchman. Before the soldier could make it to the thunderous alarm bells Arthur hurled a small ax with all his might. It made a muffled clunk as the heavy blade embedded its self in the enemy's skull. Arthur's heart ceased to beat as the corpse went crashing down from the guard tower threatening to arouse every guard on duty. The body ceased a few feet from the ground and floated the rest of the way like a feather. Arthur looked down to find Jasmine with an outstretched hand and glowing eyes. She had gotten out of one of her bracelets restoring a bit of her magic.

xXx

Morgana plunged her dagger into the back of the first patrolling guard she saw. Pain seared throughout his torso. His lips gasped to scream but he hadn't the wind. She had collapse his lung. She pulled his weakened body to the ground. Her next stab went into his heart. She laid his lifeless corpse over without care. Her only regret was not killing him sooner. Having been born of magic herself she could identify with the captives. This could have easily been her. Her tear drops fell, boiled, and sizzled from her cheeks leaving salty white streaks on her face. She snuck off to wreak vengeance upon the next. _May the Gods have mercy on you because I will not._

xXx

Gwen's hand clasped over the mouth of a villainous sack of swine as she ran her blade across his throat. She stepped over his gagging form as he fought to savor his last moments. She cared not if he participated in the vulgar activities or merely condoned them. She felt little remorse for those who would hurt a child just because of the way he or she was born. In under a minute the brute had bled to death. She left him lying with his pants still unlaced, exposed and humiliated as he would have done to his young victim. A little red haired boy of six or seven ran across his persecutor's tent. He kicked the body hard and snatched a dagger from its waist belt. The kid sprung into Gwen's arms calling her the angel of mercy. Gwen shuttled the child to safety even though the little devil stood ready for a fight.

She sidestepped over to the next guard. She barely made a sound as the hard bones of her palm met his face in an upward strike. She'd used all of her might to shatter his nose and drive the splinters into his brain. In one swift move he was dead. The soldier teetered and fell straight back like a chopped tree. Gwen caught his heavy body by the tunic before it could crash and alarm the others.

xXx

Percival snapped the scoundrel's head sideways swift and hard hoping no one had heard the nauseating crack of his neck breaking. Percival silently lowered the body to the ground. He locked a massive arm around the throat of the next mercenary, strangling the flailing clawing person until he fell limp. Percival laid the corpse on top of the other cadaver feeling a little bad but feeling worse for Aithusa and the druid children. As the young prisoners leapt with glee Percival knew it was for the greater good. He fled the tent with two little girls and a little boy; the three siblings clinging from his mighty torso. He found the girl Arthur had saved. Rather than running for her life she came in search of her friends.

Percival snatched the large key ring from the body of the slain. He passed it to Jasmine, "Gather all the imprisoned girls and boys and wait for us in the western woods."

She nodded and left with the smaller kids trailing her like a line of ducklings.

Seeing just what was at stake made Percival wreak havoc on the unsuspecting mercenaries. He left a trail of dead and dying as he made his way to the pit.

xXx

Merlin's eyes flashed a molten gold. Two guards fells to their knees clutching their chests. As blood tinged foam leaked from their mouths. Merlin clenched his own fists tighter and tighter, "Biloneth Constrictium." They fell over cold and unblinking. Merlin's enchantment crushed their hearts. Like Morgana, Merlin could have easily been a victim of these monsters. His unborn child could have suffered at their hands. Merlin fumed, sickened at the thought that there were vile men who would harm his precious baby. He crushed another heart and then another. This soon to be father did not take kindly to baby killers and unfortunately for Serrum's men, Merlin had been training with a Catha. These mercenaries had yet to suffer the full extent of Merlin's wrath.

xXx

Gwaine forcefully chopped the neck of a guard with the side of his hand. He had crushed the scoundrel's windpipe leaving him to gasp until he died. Gwaine left a trail of slit throats and broken necks until he met Sir Kay at the pit. Serrum's men had detained and tortured an unarmed woman which boiled the very blood of the long married knight. What if this was his wife, his Viv? Gwaine fastened one end of the rope securely around a tree and the other end around Kay who had shrunk down to human form. With Percival and Arthur's help Gwaine slowly lowered Kay into the pit.

xXx

Gwen and Morgana waited in the nearby forest with all 26 of the druid children. The women were looking them over one by one as Merlin jogged up with a round case of medicinal herbs and tonics. Times like this made Merlin thankful that he had tagged along behind his court physician back in Rome.

"They seem alright for the most part," Gwen informed him.

Morgana added, "I believe we made it just in time."

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief that the children had not been entirely violated. It was terrible enough that they had been kidnapped, threatened, and pushed around. He began treating the minor injuries while Gwen and Morgana composed a plan to get everyone back to Camelot safely. They had planned on saving one hostage, not 27. Gwen was aware that Sir Kay could not fly everyone home but the young queen refused to leave these innocents behind. The great dragon possessed the strength to carry everyone but not the surface area. The children could easily fall and die.

Percival, Gwaine, and Arthur soon approached in the darkness. Sir Kay was walking at their sides as Aithusa's lethargic and broken body dangled limply from his strong arms. Kay fought to keep hold of his sulfuric tears. Rarely anything caused a dragon to cry but as he saw the feeble and frail condition of the girl he loved his tears fell. They did not burn Aithusa for it was impossible to burn that which was already made of fire. But as the sulfur tears of the dragon man ran off of her shoulder and cheek the tiny drops burst into flames. Igniting small piles of leaves. Merlin and Morgana magically extinguished the fiery trail Sir Kay had unintentionally created. They cringed at the sound of the deafening alarm bells. It was too late. The fire had given away their position. Every guard in Serrum's kingdom was charging straight for them with a battle cry that would quake Mt. Olympus.

"Everyone capable, climb that rope ladder now!" Arthur commanded standing ready with his sword.

Sir Kay passed Aithusa to Gwen and Morgana; he breathed unrelenting flames from his mouth holding back the majority of the army. What few got around the fire were met by Arthur, Percival, and Gwaine's swords. The knights traded blood, sweat, and cold sharp steel with Sarrum's soldiers. Merlin fought them off with his magic. Gwen and Morgana helped the children up the rope ladder, sheltering them inside of a large tree house. Then together, along with Morgana's magic, they managed to get Aithusa and themselves up to safety. Once the women and children were safe Arthur, Percival, Gwaine, and Merlin scaled the ladder. They crowded in. They were shoulder to shoulder. There was barely room to stand. Arthur chopped the rope ladder sending two enemies hurdling to the ground; their bodies colliding with a muffled crunch. Sarrum's men were undaunted; if they couldn't climb up then they would have to burn the prisoners down. They set fire to the enormous oak. All those within coughed and gagged on the cinders and barreling smoke. Their eyes stung. Their nostrils burned as they fought for air. Merlin and Morgana were using magic in a desperate attempt to quench the flames. Percival got all of the kids to drop low, where the air was cleaner while Gwaine jested with the little ones to keep them calm and without terror.

Arthur held tightly to his soot covered wife as she clenched her eyes praying for a miracle, neither of them knowing if the suffocating smoke would end their lives or the excruciating unbearable flames…

**I want to thank everyone who has reviewed this story! Your words give me focus and inspiration :^)**


	7. With All My Heart

With All My Heart

The entire tree house began to creak and rock back and forth. Everyone hit the deck bracing for the crash. To their astonishment their shelter was not falling. It was flying. Arthur looked around to find the tips of enormous reptilian toes clutching the inside of the windows; long black talons embedded in the wood. Sir Kay had broken the entire tree house from the oak branches it had been nailed to. He flew the shelter and everyone in it away. He flapped his giant wings forcefully as he towed the structure full of people through the air. The wind whirling through the open windows cleared the smoke almost immediately. The children cheered ecstatically embracing one another. Gwen hugged Arthur so tight with tears of joy welling up in her eyes.

On the way home every single boy and girl dozed off, a few sucking their tiny thumbs, a few using their buddies as pillows. They had been through so much and did not know what awaited them in the future. They slept in sort of a tangled pile on all sides of Gwaine. The kids took an immediate liking to the friendly and playful knight.

Gwen swallowed a laugh at the sight of noble Sir Gwaine snoring as he napped along with his little comrades. The queen shook her head with amusement._ Gwaine is such a child._

Merlin was tending to Aithusa as she rested fitfully. Percival and Morgana stood at the window enjoying the beautiful view. Even at night beneath the moon and stars Britain had a breathtaking countryside. Percival fiddled with the ring in his pocket just to make sure it was still there. He had made up his mind. The moment they were back in Camelot he would ask Arthur's permission to marry. The marriage of any knight was a matter of state but especially when that marriage was to the king's only sister.

"Why are you so quiet," Morgana mused as she gazed up over her shoulder at him.

"Its nothing. I was just thinking," Percival smiled down at her.

"About what?"

"How much I love you," He whispered, omitting his plans of proposing to her.

"I love you too," She whispered back.

Arthur sat with his back to the wall of the flying building while Gwen nestled between his raised knees. She leaned back against his mail clad body resting her head upon the metal plate which covered his shoulder. His arms enveloped her and he pressed his soft warm lips into the bend of her neck just once.

"Arthur," Gwen smiled at his sweet embrace but she worried for the sleeping little ones. "What's going to happen to them, Arthur? Some are too little to speak let alone tell us where they come from. How will we know who they belong to?"

Arthur assured his troubled wife, "The Druids mark their children. Alator of the Catha will be able to distinguish which individual clans they were taken from." Gwen breathed a sigh of relief and Arthur cautioned her. "But you must prepare yourself for the ugly reality that many of these kids were likely orphaned as a result of the raids they were captured in."

Gwen swallowed hard. Having lost both of her parents she hoped that was not the case, "What shall we do with them for now? Alator's boarding school for the gifted is still under construction. And every room in the castle has been occupied by visiting royals."

"Damn," Arthur sighed. "I forgot about that."

"Actually the dorms are finished," Merlin spoke up as Aithusa slept on his legs, her tangled purple hair spilled out over his slender thighs. "We can house them in the dorms and have lessons outside until the classrooms are finished."

Gwen agreed, "Along with reading, writing, and arithmetic much of the lesson plan will include magic, which is safer practiced outside when it comes to training armatures."

Gwen shot a look of playful anger at Morgana. The two of them laughed a bit at childhood memories. Once while trying to do something nice for Uther, Morgana used magic to make his throne more beautiful. The chair transformed into a monster and tried to kill everyone at court. Morgana had also unintentionally set several fires and caused many small explosions when her magic was new and untamed, when she was coming into her own as a priestess of the old religion.

Morgana's playful joy transformed to sincere appreciation as she thanked Gwen and Arthur for opening such a school. Upon Uther's death Morgana assumed the throne and opened a school for the magical in Ealdor but even her vast kingdom could not house every Druid child in the land. It would take others to make a change; others like her brother and his queen.

Merlin couldn't hide the sudden rush of serenity he felt as he realized the king, he assumed was little more than an arrogant prat, was slowly but surely bringing change and tolerance to the land. Merlin sighed at a rather sad revelation. _If Uther had enrolled Morgana in such a place as a child she might have learned to harness her powers for good. But instead Uther chose to turn a blind eye to the fact that his daughter was different. He blamed every peculiar incident that occurred on anything else and refused to accept the one obvious truth that had been staring him in the face: Morgana was born with magic and there was nothing he could do to change her. Forcing someone to live a lie and hide who they truly are will bring about nothing but pain. I know this because it's exactly what happened to me._

Gwen gazed dreamily at her husband so proud of how much his views had progressed when it came to such matters.

"Guinevere," He whispered with a gentle kiss of her lips. "Do you truly believe that I could be the one to bring peace between those of magic and those born without enchantment?"

His mouth parted in a soft smile as she breathed four beautiful words against his lips, "With all my heart."

xXx

Upon arrival Aithusa was whisked off to Kay's room at the cottage. Freya begged him to allow her in but everything upset Freya lately. He could not have his sister see Aithusa in such a state. He told Freya she could visit in the morning. Freya brooded at his overprotectiveness and sent a care package with him for now. Merlin pretended to agree with his wife but was shaking his head no behind her back throughout the entire conversation. The young warlock secretly thanked his brother in law for being the bad guy. Merlin escorted his lovely wife to the castle for banquet and left Kay to the ugly task of healing Aithusa's many wounds.

Kay cut the soiled rags of clothing from Aithusa's fragile emaciated body. Her once adorably round face now sunk in at the jaws and eyes. Her hip bones protruded giving her the appearance of a skeleton. If not for her exotic mane of lavender hair he might not have recognized her at all. Kilgharrah took her bony hand in his as she lay unconscious before him. He turned his head back and forth in a sweeping motion as he released a fine steam from his mouth. She stirred and groaned but did not wake as the tingling mist seeped into her every pore funneling its way to her bloodstream. Her broken bones absorbed the dragon's mist. She cried out as the fractures began to fuse back together. She screamed as her dislocated joints rolled into place in a series of nauseating pops and cracks. His eyes became glossy and he fought the urge to cry as he held her down for her own good. He wiped her tears and breathed more vapors on her, until her legs and arms were no longer twisted, until her face returned to its youthful radiance, and her body bore the tantalizing curves that always set his body on fire. She opened eyes as gray as tornado clouds which drew him into her with the vacuum force of the fiercest twister.

"Kilgharrah," she cried tears of joy, relief, love, as she threw her arms around him at long last.

The bed ignited, the fire warming them, soothing them as he held her still naked body, his warm tears falling upon her bare shoulder adding to the leaping flames. The fire didn't spread or produce smoke do to the enchantment Merlin had placed on the room.

When Kay finally found words he spoke in a hushed whisper, "Oh gods I thought I'd lost you forever. How did Sarrum find you on a floating isle without Arthur's enchanted map?"

Aithusa brought her head up from his shoulder and confessed as she looked into the forest green of his eyes, "Sarrum didn't come in search of me. He found me when I came to Britain in search of you."

"You came back to me," his heart positively leapt.

"I should have never left you in the first place," Her hand cupped his cheek as they sat in the center of the large bed, enchanted flames dancing all around them, "I love you Kilgharrah. I didn't mean for it to happen."

"Neither did I. It was only supposed to be one night," He agreed, his strong arms encircling her. "I love you Aithusa."

Their mouths met in a passionate embrace, his hands sliding over her sweat slick body as she gingerly nudged him down on the bed with a simple kiss of his clothed chest the material burned from his muscular torso.

He smiled up at her glorious physique as she straddled him, "That was my favorite shirt."

"Now I'm your favorite shirt," she flirted as she felt his arousal through the material of his trousers brushing against her delicate folds. She gave a naughty smirk as she gingerly blew the ashes of his tunic from his fair body.

"You're going to pay for that," He warned grinning devilishly.

He flipped their entangled bodies over and pinned her wrists above her head. Now she lay at his mercy. Distracting him with a sensuous slip of her tongue into his mouth she managed to free just one of her hands.

As he feasted on her delicious tongue and gave her a bit of his own she reached into the snug space between their taut bellies and began unlacing his riding pants. He gasped breaking the kiss as her dainty hand ensnared his hardness, causing his knees to buckle. He caressed between her thighs just to check the temperature and his finger slipped right in drawing a wanton gasp from her lips. She stroked up and down his steely length as he braced himself over her his finger sliding in and out her as he buried his mouth in her neck.

At last he reluctantly pulled her hand from his staff and kissed the sensitive flesh of her palm. Commonsense had doused his flames as well as the enchanted ones which surrounded them. A sudden cool swept throughout his now darkened chamber.

"We shouldn't," He spoke almost in pain as he covered her with a blanket, the look of disappointment on her face drilling into the very soul of him. "You need time to heal and I don't want to hurt you." He fell back on the bed frustrated in every way a man could be.

"Must you always be so chivalrous?" She smiled as she rolled onto her side to face him, frustrated in every way a woman could be.

"I'm a knight," He reminded her and gave her a chaste but loving peck on the lips.

She nestled against his strong shoulder, "That you are my love."

"But the moment you are better I will not be so damn chivalrous. You are going to be sorer than you were in that pit."

"Kilgharrah!" She giggled at his brashness.

"I am going to murder it," He spoke honestly with pinned up sexual tension as evident in his voice as it was in his pants.

He held her blanketed body close to his, dreading the fact that he would have to leave her in a short while. In order to have an alibi for the attack on Serrum's kingdom every knight in Camelot had to be present at the banquet, greeting that vile despicable excuse for a king as if nothing had happened.

"I'll have to leave for a few hours," He confessed regretfully as he ran his fingers through her silken lavender tresses. "I'm sorry but I don't have a choice."

She kissed his chest sweetly giving him a teasing nip with her teeth, "As long as you come back to me."

He lifted his head to meet her stormy gray eyes and vowed from the depths of his soul, "I will always come back to you."

xXx

Alator and his close friend Finna got the boys and girls fed and down for bed. Meanwhile Arthur, Gwen, and their comrades dressed themselves and prepared to make their grand entrance. They sauntered into the lavish banquet hall appearing flawless, confident, and charismatic as if they hadn't just been on a mission. Trumpets sounded and applause roared from the many guests as the once and future king and queen proceeded with their promenade.

Gwaine hugged his wife so tightly, so lovingly that she knew this must've been a difficult mission. "Please never leave my sight," He implored her as the iron grip of his hug shortened her breath.

"Okay," She squeaked painfully and he released her with an apology. "What happened Gwaine?"

"A man can't show his wife a little affection without something having gone wrong?" He said defensively.

"Lots of men can. You can't," He laughed a little at her rather blatant answer as only Vivian could give.

"Come on," he gave his signature devilish smile. "I'm the sensitive type."

Vivian scoffed as she gingerly cupped his bearded jaw, "You are the playful type, the naughty type, the sneak off from a party to fuck type. You are not the tearful embrace type and you never have been."

"I'm sorry"

"Don't be. I knew just who I was marrying and I love you just the way you are. A sensitive fellow wouldn't last five minutes with me," She took his large sword calloused hand and braided her fingers with his. "You were born with a sword in your hand therefore I can only wonder what unspeakable horror could rattle a soldier of my husband's caliber."

He didn't want to tell her but he knew Vivian was not the kind of woman to just let things go, "Sarrum imprisoned and tortured Sir Kay's lady. A WOMAN for god sake!"

Vivian gasped in horror with a trembling hand over her mouth.

Gwaine assured her, "We expect Aithusa to make a full recovery."

"Thank gods"

"But when we found her in such a broken and mutilated condition…" His voice trailed off and he paused to force the lump in his throat to go down. "I just kept thinking over and over that it could have been you. I wouldn't know what to do if…"

"Look at me," She directed his dark brown eyes to connect with the baby blue sea that was her own. "I'm alright. I love you."

"And I you Viv," He brushed a soft blonde curl from her face meeting her lips in a tender and passionate kiss.

When he at last released her she ran her tongue along the smooth hills and valleys of his sensitive earlobe causing his hard body to slack and wrap around her curvy form. She whispered seductively, "I know what will make you feel better."

"You are insatiable."

"I'm sorry"

"Don't be. I knew just who I was marrying and I love you just the way you are."

xXx

Morgana circled the party hand in hand with Prince Valiant. She put up a strong facade fighting to hold back her tears. Her face bore no emotion but as a royal she had become accustomed to hiding her true feelings.

On the inside she was burning with fury and hurt. How could Percival have betrayed her like this? "I can't believe he just broke things off with me."

Valiant brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles tenderly, "If this Percival fellow is willing to just end things without the courtesy of an explanation then you don't need him."

Valiant's deep voice was like a soothing purr.

"Thank you"

"Its no problem at all. How long have we been friends?"

"A very long time," Morgana had to admit.

"Maybe its time we were more," He flirted boldly as he ceased and pulled her in front of him.

She was lost in those captivating dark blue eyes. If nothing else her ex was smooth, charming, and he called to some part of her, even though that part was the darker side, the vengeful cutthroat merciless side that frightened even her.

His lips felt like a gentle breeze as they grazed the sensitive flesh of her earlobe, "You don't need him Morgana. Come back to me love."

His behavior stunned Morgana. Though he had always treated her with the respect owed to a lady of her standing, he had never looked upon her with desire, only a sense of duty and obligation. Morgana trembled as Valiant kissed a trail from her ear to her cheek gradually making his way to her lips, each press of his lips bringing him closer to a long awaited embrace of her luscious mouth. They jumped apart at the gruff sound of Arthur clearing his throat, before Valiant could have the satisfaction of claiming her lips. Valiant fumed at the sight of Morgana's cock-blocking little brother.

The smooth talking prince quickly recovered, "Your Majesty, we were just about to join you at the table."

"I'm sure," Arthur said dismissively and then turned to his sister. "Please give us a moment."

Morgana shot them both a _play nice_ look and then left to find Gwen.

Without taking time to doddle Arthur demanded to know, "What did you say to my champion? Percival asked me for my sister's hand tonight. From the look on his face when I granted permission you would have thought I had given him heaven and earth. His very soul loves Morgana. He would not have just broken things off for no reason. Did you threaten him? Did you threaten her?"

Valiant laughed good naturedly, "I merely informed the boy of all Queen Morgana would have to give up for their unsuitable and preposterous union. He actually teared up at the thought of her losing her title, her lands, the respect of her peers, everything on account of him. He's a sensitive fellow that one."

"You guilted him into dumping my sister," Arthur growled.

"I merely helped Sir Percival make an informed decision." Valiant explained with a casual shrug. "Their marriage would have been a travesty. He did the right thing."

"By making my already troubled sister feel unloved!" Arthur whisper-yelled.

"I love her!" Valiant called back with the same vehemence.

"You love the man in the mirror," Arthur laughed without humor. "And that is the only one you have ever given a shit about."

"You don't know anything about me," Valiant said in his own defense.

"I know from the lipstick stain on your clothes you still have an avid chambermaid addiction."

"Nice try Arthur. There's no lipstick on my tunic."

"I was referring to the smudge on your trousers." Valiant looked so embarrassed as Arthur pointed at him accusingly, "You got your dick sucked by some random wench five minutes before a date with my sister and you will stand in my face vowing to love Morgana."

"Arthur I… I…" Valiant stammered but he hadn't an excuse for his actions so he went on the defensive. "Informing Morgana will do you no good. She has always believed me over you."

Women threw themselves at Valiant on a regular basis and he indulged like a glutton at a dessert table. The attention was addictive but such behaviors had created a rift between him and Morgana over the years. The prince truly needed Arthur's silence.

"I won't tell her, but not as a favor to you. " Arthur said and Valiant breathed a sigh of relief on the inside though outwardly he did not flinch. "My silence is out of consideration for her. Women internalize everything. I can't have Morgana blaming herself for your philandering tendencies, wondering why she wasn't beautiful or captivating enough, when the one obvious truth is that you're just a heartless bastard."

"I swear I'll change if Morgana marries me. I'll never look upon another woman," Valiant vowed. "Thank you for showing discretion."

"Just change your pants already," Arthur snapped, repulsion painted all over his face. He walked away yearning to no longer hear nor see the ever present thorn in his side that was Prince Valiant of the Western Isles.

Arthur pulled Guinevere into his arms. She was like a beautiful heavenly rainbow after a treacherous storm. After a few moments of just holding her warm curvy body he reluctantly loosened his embrace, "I don't know what to do Guinevere. Morgana is two spirited…"

"I know the balance of good and evil in such a person is extremely delicate," Gwen hooked her dainty arm with his powerful bicep as they strolled.

"Percival is her good influence, the one thing that keeps her soul from falling into darkness. If she loses him…" The outcome was too horrible for Arthur to finish his sentence.

With a pat of his arm and a kiss of his clothed shoulder Gwen assured him, "If they are meant to be together she isn't going to lose him. Have faith Arthur."

King Sarrum waived to Gwen and Arthur entirely unaware of the condition they had left his kingdom in.

"Can't I just kill him Guinevere," Arthur whined almost childishly as he held back every instinct to carve Sarrum along with the turkey.

Gwen gave Arthur a swift and inconspicuous elbow as they circled the party. "You're as bad as Kilgharrah, always with the fight first think later mentality."

Arthur snickered knowing she was right, "What would I do without you Guinevere?"

"I don't know," She laughed kissing his cheek, the simple embrace causing Arthur to melt like butter.

She forced herself to smile at Sarrum before reminding her hot tempered husband, "In time dear husband we will get Sarrum, but in a way that will not bring down his kingdom's wrath upon our people."

"You are absolutely right," Arthur agreed placing his hands at the small of her back and pulling her firmly against the hard plains of his body. "There is an art to war and we mustn't be sloppy with the brush."

Her hands traveled up his shirted chest until they were snuggly transfixed at the nape of his neck, her fingers combing through his smooth golden locks as she gazed up into his handsome face. His head dipped almost abruptly grazing the sensitive skin of her neck with his lips, causing her lips to quiver in delight and her cinnamon colored skin to prickle with goose flesh, neither of them giving a damn about the banquet that was in full swing all around them. He gave her neck a gentle bite that made her whole body tingle and she found her fingers curling in his tunic.

Arthur grinned impishly, "I've got a surprise for you my love."

He signaled Leon to look after things for a while and speak on his behalf. Then Arthur casually led Gwen out of the banquet by the hand, grabbing a lone candlestick on the way out. Once in the hall they ran joyfully around the high ceilinged corridors feeling as free as birds. They spiraled down so many stone staircases that Guinevere lost count. Soon they were in the pitch black catacombs below the castle. A strange setting for a romantic getaway but Gwen didn't care if he took her to the underworld as long as they were together.

Arthur used his candle to light the torches along the walls as he led her through a winding labyrinth of tunnels explaining along the way, "I am going to take you to a place no one else knows about: My fortress of solitude. When the world gets to be too much I retreat here to better understand myself and find just a bit of serenity."

Gwen stopped in her tracks at the twinge of guilt, "I am honored that you wish to share every aspect of your life with me. But I yearn not to intrude upon your place of serenity the place where you gain hope and wisdom."

"I find all of those things in you now," He vowed with a sweet kiss of her forehead. "This place shall be ours, mine and yours."

She nodded with tears in her eyes at the tenderness of his words. They joined hands and continued their journey through the maze of tunnels. Soon she could hear the rushing of water. She could smell the refreshing scent of the sea. They emerged from the darkness on a private moonlit beach. Gwen smiled softly up at him as she saw that Arthur had already rolled out a blanket for them with a bottle of wine and two goblets. They removed their shoes and left them at the tunnel's entrance. Arthur wrapped an arm around the small of her back and led her down the floral path he had created from the silken petals of roses. The cool soft flowers tickled her bare feet and enveloped her with the sweetest aroma.

They lowered to the blanket and Arthur took his one candle and used it to light the horse shoe of others that surrounded their blanket. The abundance of glowing candles jutting out of the sand caused this haven to illuminate like a beautiful shrine to her. A sharp pop sounded as the bottle came uncorked and Arthur carefully filled both goblets. They sipped tangy sweet wine under the moon and stars watching white crested waves crash down on the sandy shore. Vast magnificent rock formations protruded from the moon glint ocean waters and Gwen found herself wondering just how they came to be; it looked as if she could reach out and touch their stony texture.

"Guinevere," Arthur grinned and pointed happily as a shooting star flitted across the sky. "Did you make a wish?"

"No need," She spoke dreamily with a tender peck of his cheek. "My wish already came true. Have you ever seen anything more beautiful than this place?"

Touched by her words, Arthur placed an arm around her shoulders. He turned to face her and lifted her chin until her lovely Egyptian eyes met his, "Every single day Guinevere."

His hands tangled in her loose curls as their mouths came together in a warm and sensual embrace and before she could free her lips to draw in a breath she felt the soft blanketed sand beneath her back and Arthur's strong hands exploring the confines of her body.

"Arthur," She spoke breathlessly gripping his locks spurring him on, but before they could join she had to know one very important thing: "Do you honestly believe me to be this queen of legend Merlin is always speaking of."

Arthur withdrew his magnificent tongue from the taut chocolate tip of her breast. His mouth rose to meet that of his bride and he breathed four words against her soft wet lips, "With all my heart."

xXx

Freya begged a brief absence from the banquet table. Merlin lay his napkin aside with a grin and gave her ass an inconspicuous squeeze as they rose to excuse themselves. The moment they were away from watchful eyes the young warlock's mouth and hands were all over her.

"Merlin! That isn't what I've called you for," Freya removed his palm from her boob.

Merlin pouted with a long lip.

"It isn't that I don't desire to my love. Its just right now I need you." Her beautiful face became as serious as a funeral. "I heard the voice of the goddess Calypso. Albion is lost, Arthur and Gwen are lost if you don't do exactly as I say."

Merlin's already fair skin completely drained of what little color it had, "What's happened Freya…"


	8. The Crystal of Neahtid

**Author's Note: I would like to thank Kinkchronicles69 for the song suggestion. This chapter features a tune by Evanescence entitled **_**Bring Me to Life **_**:^)**

**-Embrasia-**

The Crystal of Neahtid

Freya took the hand of her beloved and led Merlin through the series of staircases and corridors which led to the castle vaults. She might have run if it would not have raised suspicion.

"Where are we going Freya?" Merlin asked concern evident in his voice, "What's happened?"

Freya's long mahogany tresses fell free from her clips with the speed of her gait but she marched on, clinging to Merlin's hand for dear life, "Arthur is nowhere to be found and we must get into the castle vaults now."

"Why?! For what?!"

She started down another flight of stairs. He journeyed at her side as she informed him, "I must retrieve the crystal of Neahtid or all is lost."

"You're not making sense Freya. Even if we do steal it no one alive is powerful enough to wield it."

"Not even the all-powerful Emrys?" She paused for just a moment and gingerly caresses his cheek with the tip of her finger.

He smiled at her unwavering faith in him, her love for him, "I shall try not to disappoint you my love."

Freya's heart stopped at the sight of a disgruntled guard barreling down on them. No one but Arthur was allowed in this part of the castle. Freya threw Merlin against the wall. She began kissing her husband passionately and soon he was completely enthralled in her.

The guard shook his head with amusement. _The Prince and Princess of Rome are_ _sneaking off for a quickie I see. _The guard continued his patrol of the vaults and left the two lovers alone.

"Is he gone?" Freya asked breathlessly when she finally broke the kiss.

"Who? What?" Merlin murmured grinning stupidly with his mind in a daze.

"The guard Merlin!"

"Oh he left ages ago."

"Merlin!" Freya swallowed a laugh at her husband's shamelessness. Now was not the time for laughter. She had to save the Pendragons and she needed Merlin to help her.

At the seriousness of her expression Merlin questioned, "Why do we need this Crystal?"

"Do you want the news rough like a punch in the face or gentle?"

"Doesn't matter"

Freya gathered her courage, "The goddess Calypso revealed a vision to me of an awful war between Arthur and his sister. So many perished..." Freya's voice trailed off and her large chocolate eyes became misty. "It was at a place called Camlann it was horrifying Merlin. Arthur was slain by Morgana's champion, Mordred." Merlin's face went ghost white as she continued. "And you killed Morgana."

"Freya that doesn't make sense," Merlin shook his head in utter shock. "Morgana and Arthur have made amends."

"Morgana and Arthur have made amends because of the positive and loving influence Sir Percival has on her." Freya didn't have to explain further.

"If Morgana goes back to Valiant its only a matter of time before he convinces her that Arthur is her enemy."

Freya nodded solemnly, "And that's not the worst part. Calypso also warned me that the stars favor Valiant on this night. If he gets so much as a kiss from Morgana he will possess her for all eternity! We're doomed."

"Is it too late to receive the news gently?"

"That was gently," Freya snapped. "We need the sacred crystal of Neahtid to show Percival what will become of the woman he loves if he does not hold onto her."

Within the vault of treasures and artifacts Merlin turned to find an opaque crystal resting on a black velvet pillow.

"What are you doing down here?!" Shouted a different guard as Merlin stood before the gate that surrounded the crystal. The man drew his sword.

"King Arthur sent me for that," Merlin lied.

The guard sheathed his weapon as he recognized it was the Roman Ambassador and not some common thief. The guard walked over to take a closer look, "The King did not clear it with our patrol first. I'm sorry Ambassador Merlin but I cannot allow…"

Merlin slapped a hand over the man's mouth and whispered in a hypnotic voice, "Sleep."

The tall armor clad soldier became sleepier than he'd ever felt in his life. Merlin lowered the heavy man to the ground as he drifted off. Merlin snatched the large ring of keys from his belt. He tossed them to Freya. While Merlin tucked the sleeping guard into a shadowy corner. Freya unlocked the gate and slipped in to retrieve the crystal.

"Got it" She smiled with the mystical treasure clutched in her blessed hands.

He breathed a sigh of relief knowing he would be lost if he ever lost her. The fabled sorcerer and his lady of the lake were like two sides of the same fated coin. With a short but sweet peck of her lips Merlin and Freya fled the vaults. They hadn't a moment to fret. The time had come to divert destiny and save the life of Arthur Pendragon.

xXx

Merlin pulled Percival into a Private chamber. Freya followed them in and closed the door. Merlin and Freya sat at each side of the tall strapping knight as Merlin whispered an incantation. A heavy cloak of confusion spread over Percival's handsome face as the image of his beloved appeared in the crystal of Neahtid. She was standing forlornly before a looking glass wearing widow's black while Lady Enmyria and Lady Kara fussed with her matted hair and fluffed the skirts of her rather bleak ensemble. Morgana's eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying.

"Did someone die," Questioned an alarmed Percival. "Is she going to a funeral?"

"She's preparing for her wedding to Valiant." Merlin answered.

At Percival's discombobulated glare Freya informed him, "I know that you honestly believe you are doing the right thing but that's because Prince Valiant has seduced you. The same as he's always done to her. It's what Valiant does. He's keen at spotting one's weaknesses and exploiting them. Morgana's weakness was her resentment of Arthur. Your weakness was your love for Morgana. What good is a title and riches to Morgana if she loses her family, her life, her soul?"

"It isn't real," Percival murmured in disbelief at the scorned witch in the crystal.

"It is very much real," Merlin informed him and whispered a second spell so that Percival could hear the words that Morgana was singing.

Morgana's voice was as beautiful and enchanting as her mother's. She sang with all her heart about a common sailor who showed her kindness and love during her imprisonment:

_How can you see into my eyes like open doors?__  
__Leading you down into my core where I've become so numb__  
__Without a soul my spirit's sleeping somewhere cold__  
__Until you find it there and lead it back home_

_Wake me up inside__  
__Wake me up inside__  
__Call my name and save me from the dark__  
__Bid my blood to run__  
__Before I come undone__  
__Save me from the nothing I've become_

Percival looked up with his heart torn in half, "I thought she'd be better off with Valiant but its as if she's imploring me to save her from him."

"She's imploring you to save her from herself," Freya said. "Or rather the person she becomes when she's with Valiant."

Percival didn't know what to think. His mind whirled as he continued to listen to her singing, her every word cutting a hole in his heart:_  
_

_Now that I know what I'm without__  
__You can't just leave me__  
__Breathe into me and make me real__  
__Bring me to life_

_Wake me up inside__  
__Wake me up inside__  
__Call my name and save me from the dark__  
__Bid my blood to run__  
__Before I come undone__  
__Save me from the nothing I've become_

_Bring me to life__  
__I've been living a lie, there's nothing inside__  
__Bring me to life_

Merlin regretfully informed his friend if Prince Valiant kisses Morgana on this night you will have lost her forever. Arthur and Morgana will both die in the inevitable battle that will ensue. Sir Percival had heard enough. He stormed off as if crossing a battlefield. He would either win her heart or die fighting for it. _  
_

_Frozen inside without your touch__  
__Without your love, darling__  
__Only you are the life among the dead_

Morgana tried to keep her focus on her date as they shared dinner amidst the banquet but she kept catching herself searching for Percival among the many faces. She felt stupid for even caring about him after he so callously and abruptly ended things. She felt guilty for being distant and aloof on her date with Valiant. The Prince was trying so hard to make things up to her but she didn't love him. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to. She sat half listening to Valiant and other courtiers as her mind drifted back to Percival. _Why did he end things? Is it because I have magic? Is he afraid our children will be freaks like their mother? Does he just not want the burden of raising magical offspring?_ It didn't make sense. Percival had to love her as much as she loved him.

_All this time I can't believe I couldn't see__  
__Kept in the dark but you were there in front of me__  
__I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems__  
__Got to open my eyes to everything__  
__Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul__  
__Don't let me die here__  
__There must be something more!__  
__Bring me to life_

Morgana downed chalice after chalice of wine until she at last began to feel the desired effects. She giggled at the sensation of Valiant's strong hand creeping up her thigh as they sat at the banquet table in their own little world. She needed a pair of strong arms after having her heart shattered by the love of her life. _What does it matter if I go to bed with Valiant? Percival told me he loved me just to uncross my legs and now he's done with me! Sleazy manipulative bastard!_

"Are you alright," Valiant asked as he saw the tears welling up in her eyes.

Morgana stiffened her shoulders in steely pride and downed another drink. "I'm fine," She slurred drunkenly.

"Good, because I've been waiting all night to do this," Valiant leaned in to give her the fated kiss that would entwine their destinies forever and she found herself leaning forward to meet him. Her eyes closing embracing the darkness. His eyes drifting shut in anticipation of the moment he had waited all night for.

Morgana gasped. Something cold had splashed into her lap. Ruining the moment as well as her buzz.

"I'm so sorry milady," Drea cried as she dabbed at the spot of wine she had spilled on Morgana's beautiful white gown.

Morgana sighed and sobered up abruptly. _When it rains it pours._ She assured the troubled servant, "Its just a dress. Come help me change."

"Yes milady," Drea curtseyed.

Morgana smiled at Valiant and kissed his cheek, "I won't be long."

"I'll count the seconds," Valiant flirted with a kiss of her hand.

Drea followed Morgana out of the banquet, down a long dim corridor, and up two flights of stairs. Morgana opened her chamber door stunned to find Sir Percival there. Percival grinned impishly and slipped the maid, his accomplice, a hefty tip. Drea curtseyed politely with a knowing wink and excused herself. Percival and Morgana stood several feet away from one another in the elegant candlelit chamber, neither wanting to be the one to speak first.

_Wake me up inside  
Wake me up inside  
Call my name and save me from the dark  
Bid my blood to run  
Before I come undone  
Save me from the nothing I've become_

_Bring me to life_  
_I've been living a lie, there's nothing inside_  
_Bring me to life..._

"I paid Drea to spill a drink on you," Percival confessed at last with tears in his twinkle blue eyes. "I'm sorry I ruined your dress."

"I don't give a shit about the dress," Morgana wept as they closed the distance between them.

They needed to embrace one another more than they needed air to breathe at this moment. She thought she would be angry with him. She thought she would lash out and scream and strike him down with magic. But now he was here holding her so tight, begging her forgiveness, swearing that he truly loved her and that he made the worst mistake of his life in letting her go.

She could not harbor hatred for this man and some part of her resented him for making her so vulnerable, for making her love him so much. All she wanted was to spend the rest of her life in his loving embrace. There was something about the gentle giant that melted the ice cycles from the witch's frozen heart. She wiped his tears with the pads of her thumbs shuddering at the realization that though he'd poured his heart out and bared his soul; he wouldn't have had to speak a word. She had forgiven Percival the moment she saw him standing there, a frightening concept to a women who was so guarded. Morgana felt her heart skid to a stop as Percival's mighty form lowered to one knee before her; with a flash of his nervous smile it thudded back into rhythm again.

He offered up the simple gold band that he was almost ashamed to give her, "Will you marry me Morgana Pendragon? I know I don't deserve you. But I love you."

Down the hall Merlin and Freya hugged one another with a sigh of utter relief as the vision of that heinous battle faded from the Crystal of Neahtid.

"You did it again Merlin," Freya said delightedly unable to hide how proud she was of her husband. "You saved Arthur's life."

"We saved Arthur's life," Merlin corrected his beloved. "Everything I am everything I will ever be is because of you. Never forget that."

"Oh Merlin" Freya mused. _How does he do it? How does he make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world?_

xXx

Merlin stands mesmerized as the deep dark pools of Freya's eyes meet his own. She has pulled down his blind fold and now he can see the beautiful candlelit picnic she's laid out for them.

"Surprise!" Freya chimes in the middle of the forest.

His heart sinks as he sees all the trouble she's gone through. He feels like a bastard, "I'm so sorry. I forgot Freya."

She shrugs good heartedly with a chuckle, "I half expected you to."

"I feel terrible."

"Don't," she insists as they lower themselves on the blanket. "Somewhere between saving Arthur, fulfilling your destiny, rescuing Aithusa, and appeasing the gods themselves, you are bound to forget an anniversary or two."

Merlin smiles at her understanding nature and knows at once that they are more than just in love, they are destined. _How does she do it? How does she make me feel like I'm the only fellow in the world? _

Neither of them had a chance to eat at the banquet so they snack on the fruit and finger sandwiches she's brought for their outing. The hoots of owls and the chirps of crickets serve as a sweet and natural symphony.

Freya quizzes him with a playfully arched brow as she munches on her favorite juicy red fruit, "So can you at least tell me which anniversary it is?"

Merlin swallows the bite of apple swirling around his mouth, "On one year ago today you told me you loved me for the first time. Entirely unaware that even in my measles induced delirium I could still hear your beautiful voice."

"I was so embarrassed when you revived and confessed that you'd heard me. But then you told me you felt the same way," She shudders at the recollection of him feeble and sickly lying in a pool of his own sweat. "That was the worst week of my life. I thought you were going to die."

He takes her hand, "Freya please don't cry. That was the best week of my life. Though death circled me I found the strength to live in you."

He kisses her lips, kisses away the pain of her memories and they lie back on the blanket together. He spoons with her, his lips playing at the nape of her neck.

He raises his head and breathes into her ear, "How is it my passion for you grows with your belly?"

She smiles softly over her shoulder at him and he claims her mouth almost ravenously. With her earlier tease still playing on his mind his hand cups her clothed breast and she moans in the back of her throat, already feeling the beginnings of his arousal against her bottom. She can feel his hand surrender the supple mound he has been kneading in order to travel down her side. The cool air nips at her legs as he begins slipping up her dress without ever breaking their kiss. His tongue flicking and searching and caressing as his hand finds its way into her undergarments, the soft ball of his fingertip sweeping back and forth over her clit. She gasps breaking her lips free of his as the sensitive bud arouses and wetness seeps between her legs.

"Merlin," she cries as his busy finger slides into her folds, his mouth and teeth and tongue feasting hungrily on the sensitive flesh of her neck.

"Please let me have you Freya. I understand how uncomfortable and embarrassed you have become lately but I swear you are so beautiful to me. Allow me to show you. I promise not to look and I'll only take off what is absolutely necessary." He vows, his voice wrought with love and need. "Please I can't wait another day."

The entire time his fingers have not stopped working between her legs. She can't conjure the air to answer him. She reaches behind her tugging at the waist band of his pants and he takes this as a long awaited yes.

She slides her panties down hastily. And he maneuvers his trapped erection and the sensitive satchel below it up and over the front of his pants. She shudders as the smooth slightly moistened head of his desire brushes against her bottom and tunnels its way between her sweat slick thighs. With one of his thin arms around her shivering shoulders and the other arm lovingly cradling her belly he thrust himself into her warmth. It has been so long since they've made love that she cries out at the sharp pinch of his invasion. He moves inside of her slowly, gently massaging her pain away, whispering endearing words as she grows wetter around his member. Merlin's strokes are long and slow and gentle as he holds his little family in his arms never feeling so blessed, so highly favored by the gods...

xXx

Out on the beach Gwen lays in just a pair of white thigh high stockings with Arthur's magnificent tongue searching out her mouth, his thumb gliding over a dark nipple. She moans deeply with the contact, the vibrations of her wanton noises tickling his lips sending pleasurable shivers throughout his body. They rest on their sides facing one another, teasing one another in unhurried and sensual caresses. As cool ocean waters swish up their exposed legs Arthur is briefly reminded of the night he rescued her from a storm. The night he carried her wet, soft, cold body against his own sweaty, dirty, warm chest, rubbing at his lower abdomen with each step in a rhythm not unlike that of lovemaking. Her clinging fabrics may have hidden her well, but that didn't stop his hands from tingling at the sensation of her tender youthful curves, trying his damnedest not to betray the friend and comrade she was engaged to at the time. Selfish lust may have clouded his vision on that night, but now nothing but love remains.

Pulling away from his dreaming Arthur gasps into the night. Gwen's warm tantalizing mouth is draining the salty nectar from his twitching member. His body is convulsing, his mouth gaping with words he has not the breath to speak as his hot seed flows into her eagerly working mouth in rhythmic spurts.

"Stop please," he murmurs desperately as the tip of him becomes too sensitive to stand anymore attention. At what point did she wrap her lips around him? He doesn't even know, "I'm sorry Guinevere. I didn't mean to… in your mouth, but the things you do to me…"

She gazes up at him doe eyed and innocent as she lies at the side of his legs. She rolls out her tongue to lap the delicious drops from the hard muscles of his abdomen that have escaped her, the strong and fascinating flavor of his seed beguiling her to roll onto her back and plunge her fingers into herself. He watches only briefly with an innocent curiosity unable to tear his eyes from her. She appears so sultry, like a love goddess rather than a newlywed bride. He feels unworthy of her but has to have his goddess in some way, if only to serve her, to worship her.

Arthur kisses Gwen in the gap between her breasts. Her fingers stop working on herself, as if nothing she can do will compare to even a simple embrace from her husband, as if he knows her body and her very soul, even better than she does. He can hear her heart beat as he rests his head on her breastbone.

"I love you." he whispers against her chest.

"I love you too." she whispers back raising her head only briefly to drop a kiss into his sweaty blond locks.

His hands begin to roam her body, his face is planting kisses from her eyelids down to her belly, his arms are guiding her thighs apart as his mouth lowers to embrace the intricate maze of sensitive flesh that is her womanhood, glistening in the moonlight from her wetness.

She cries out into the night at the sensation of his slowly exploring tongue. She twists and turns upon the blanket as his strong hands grip her stockinged thighs keeping her open and inviting to him. She lies moaning and gasping and pleading as her fingers claw in the gritty sand just beyond their blanket. Arthur's tongue is lapping up her delectable juices as the hard bones of her pelvis move excitedly but gently against his face. His body grows hot all over as all the blood within him surges to his groin…

xXx

Percival knows that he and Morgana should wait but their passion has never felt like a sin to him. How could something so pure, so _true_, something done out of mutual love and respect and understanding and need be wicked and sinful? He would not believe it. He could not believe it. Morgana was a mystery, a hellish being who had tried to kill the king, his king. Such a wild forsaken creature… how could she be his?

After Morgana failed to conquer Camelot Percival found her imprisoned in the tallest tower. Her eyes betrayed any essence of tranquility, a golden storm that raged behind widened irises as she watched him with a mixture of fear, curiosity, and anxiety. Her eyes reflected his own lost soul.

Now she bears into him with eyes of wonder and love as she sits with one knee at each side of his sculptured godlike body, throwing back her heavy tresses as his hips lift from the bed joining them together. His back rises from the cozy mattress until he is sitting completely erect, his hands gliding up and down the ivory skin of her beautiful naked back as they make tender and passionate love in the center of her extravagant canopy bed. His large but gentle hand tangles in her raven hair as he guides her head back and takes her neck with his mouth. His kisses are soft, sweet, but grow needier with every wanton movement of her hips against the solid bones of his pelvis. He begins pushing up into her, ravenously feasting on her neck, giving her lips tantalizing bites and caressing her soft pink tongue with his own.

He moves his steely member lustfully inside of her tight wet tunnel, wondering vaguely exactly how her soul is damned according to most kingdoms. If she's Hell-bound, is he as well? So be it! How could such a lovely and passionate woman be godless?

Her teeth sink into the salty flesh of his neck causing him to draw in a quickened breath. She nearly ended him but he soon regains control. Her fingernails rake across the vast muscular plain of his back and he delves into her so deeply she cannot breathe for at least five thrusts. When at last she wills her lungs to fill a tear trickles down her lovely cheek. She knows the man she has given herself to is the perfect combination of tenderness and might, ferocity and empathy. Morgana has lost her heart to a Knight of Camelot and no matter how hard she tries she will never reclaim it again. Her supple white breasts slide up and down the sweat glistening skin of his powerful chest, her rosy nipples perking with the glorious sensation. Her warm juices seep into the course curls at the base of his desire as her orgasm washes over her like a mid-April shower. A profession of love on her lips as her body quivers in his powerful arms and he smiles and kisses the side of her face wishing he could make her do it again but knowing that his time was drawing close. Percival cradles Morgana against his heart as he cums inside of her and they hold one another in sweet beautiful silence...

xXx

Arthur and Gwen move together on the moonlit-beach, thrusting and kissing with nothing but the sounds of their moans and their breaths and the waves that lapped at their restless feet.

He whispers her name just once, salty and sweet on his lips, "Guinevere."

They roll and tussle fighting for supremacy on this erotic battlefront. Arthur is practically slamming his body into hers and Guinevere is begging him for more, wantonly sucking his fingertips and tongue and any part of his body she can reach, making him moan and groan. She pins him at last, works him desperately, her eyes rolling back as he bucks beneath her. He flips their entwined bodies taking her leg into his hand, blessing her calf with a tender wet kiss before placing it onto his strong shoulder. He leans forward and her knee presses against her shoulder as he drives into her drumming her just there. She cries out. He cries out as they bring one another to a long awaited climax so phenomenal they would swear they had changed the alignment of the stars. Her trembling leg slides down from his sweaty shoulder and they lie in each other's arms exchanging sweet nothings and terms of endearment, gentle caresses and dreamy kisses…

xXx

Freya's hand reaches just behind her to tangle in Merlin's sweaty black locks as his front slams against her back. He holds her close thrusting into her with all the passion in his soul until together they fall into the abyss of love lust and satisfaction. Merlin slowly pulls out his shining twitching member. As Freya gasps at the soreness he has created Merlin feels a little bad. With passion fading guilt is setting in on the young warlock.

"I'm so sorry Freya," Merlin's big blue eyes become wet with tears. _How could I have hurt the mother of my child? _

"I'm not hurt Merlin," Freya says sweetly. "You made me feel beautiful."

A relieved smile plays across his lips at the revelation that she had enjoyed this as much as he. They fix their clothes, embrace one another warmly, and drift peacefully off to sleep.

An hour later Merlin sits up on the blanket as Freya continues to lie at his side. He yawns, stretches, and rubs his exhausted eyes. There is barely a flicker left to the candles they had brought with them. If Freya were not so far along in her pregnancy he might camp the entire night. But he knows its best she return to the palace were the midwife can be summoned easily.

As Freya's soft dainty hand clasps his own he is glad he will not have to wake her.

"It's time to go my love," Merlin says raising their joined hands to his lips to place a sweet kiss into her palm. "I love you Freya."

His brows furrow with confusion when he hears nothing back. This has never happened before. Maybe she's cross about the late term love making. He curses at himself. _I should have been gentler._

He tries again, "Freya I said I love you."

Again no response and now his feelings are hurt. Their coupling was out of love. Why can't she see that? How can she be so furious with him as to deny him just three words: three little words he would place heaven and earth at her feet to hear? Her hand falls loosely from his grasp and Merlin directs his eyes over.

He might have screamed if he could breathe. He might have fainted if he wasn't frozen in horror, shock, complete petrification. His eyes gape at the arrow sticking out of his wife's chest and the ever growing pool of blood on her gown. The crunch of dried leaves and the rustle of tree branches shatter the eerie silence of the forest. A troop of Roman soldiers is surrounding him.

Caesar rises from the shadows with the bow of death still in his clutches, "I'm sorry Son but she'd bewitched you. No future emperor of Rome would sacrifice everything to marry such a creature by his own will."

The forest is spinning creating a kaleidoscope of helmeted faces in the dying candlelight as Merlin at last draws in a searing breath, "NOOOOO!"

He screams NO to his evil father!

NO to the gods!

NO to the very fates!

Animals flock from the trees above at the might of his tortured screams. His wails pierce the air echoing and resounding.

NO this cannot be happening!

NO the fates cannot be so cruel!

NO Freya cannot be leaving him!

NO his little girl or boy cannot be dying before ever having the chance to LIVE!

As long as he keeps screaming NO this nightmare will not be real. This awful, unspeakable, god forsaken nightmare cannot be real, "NOOOOOOOO!"


	9. The Face that Launched 1000 Ships

**The Writer's Prayer**

**Bless me readers for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last update. These are my sins: Sleazy sex scenes, unusual parings, and a major character death. In my own defense this is a **_**Slave & the Soldier**_** prequel and I cried over the chapter you are about to read. But things will get better I promise.**

**-Embrasia- **

The Face that Launched 1000 Ships

The shrill howl of dogs. The trampling of boots. The clanging of chainmail sounded throughout the forest. Gwen and Arthur were leading a search party in pursuit of Merlin and Freya. The young king and queen trudged through the scattered light of the woods, hacking branches from their path with machetes.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted cringing at the large oddly shaped splatter of blood on the picnic blanket. "MERLIN!"

No one had seen the young warlock or his bride since they slipped away from last night's banquet. There was a joust today but the tournament would have to wait. The Prince and Princess of Rome were missing and from the condition of the blanket either one of them was seriously injured or Freya was in labor. Gwen and Arthur surveyed the picnic area as their soldiers scoured the woods.

"She's in labor Arthur!" Gwen spoke frantically. "She has to be. There is so much blood!"

"I told Merlin to keep her in the castle close to the midwife," Arthur sighed. He took a knee, removed his metal glove, and ran his fingertips over the stain. "Its almost dry. She probably went into labor last night and they couldn't find their way back in the dark."

Gwen drew in panicked breaths at the thought of her friend all alone trying to have her baby. Arthur grabbed his wife's shoulders to calm her. "Guinevere," Arthur spoke in the most soothing voice he could conjure, "Just because Merlin has the most awful sense of direction of anyone we've ever met, does not mean that all is lost."

"Merlin does have a god awful sense of direction," Gwen snickered despite her worries.

Arthur glanced over to find his sister horrified and shaking as she laid eyes upon all the trampled candles that encircled the ruined picnic. This sight triggered a vision, a terrifying vision. Morgana fell to her knees screaming at the top of her lungs. Gwen and Arthur ran to her aide.

"This is all my fault," Morgana murmured over and over again. M_orgause gave me a bracelet years ago to cease my night terrors. Had I not slept in it last night I might have seen this coming._

"Morgana!"

"Morgana!"

She looked up with misty eyes at the sound of Arthur and Gwen's voices. They had been calling her name for quite some time but what could she say? Freya wasn't in labor; she had been savagely torn from this life; taken from her husband and everyone who loved her. And Merlin wasn't lost; he'd been abducted by a ruthless mass murderer whom the masses knew as Caesar…

xXx

"FIX HIM!" Cenred bellowed as he stood aboard the busy vessel shaking the doctor by the collar.

"I can't!" The doctor yelled using all of his efforts to free himself from the enraged emperor.

Merlin had been in a catatonic state from the moment they boarded the ship destined for Rome. He was awake but unresponsive. He stared blankly into space without reacting to discomfort pain or any other stimulus.

"He's had a psychotic break," The physician explained. "Prince Myrddin has retreated inside of himself to a place that is safe. He could snap out of it today, he could be like this forever, or like many mental patients his conscious mind may come and go. What would ever possess you to kill his wife?"

"What indeed?" Cenred growled shooting an icy glare at Morgause so cold she might have sworn she saw her breath fog the air. Cenred turned back to the doctor, "You must think of a way to revive him, bring him back to life."

"With all due respect milord as his father you would be better suited than I. You know him better. Find him a reason to live, a glimmer of hope."

Cenred nodded with a look of exhaustion, "Have someone help you change Myrddin's clothing. I think he's pissed himself again."

"Yes milord."

Cenred drove his fist into the mast of the ship. He stormed away as blood ran between his fingers. The physician asked a soldier to prepare a warm bowl of water as he stripped the soggy fabrics from Merlin's body.

"Prince Myrddin," The doc sighed to see him reduced to this: a broken, soiled, shell of himself.

Cenred charged into the Captain's quarters. Morgause leapt up from the table. Before she could get out a word he grabbed her by the throat. Slammed her down of the table. Plates and goblets went crashing to the floor.

"You told me that druid girl cast a spell on my son. And as it turns out he loved her," Cenred growled as he stared down at Morgause with a deranged glare in his eyes, "Give me one reason I shouldn't brutally fuck and choke you to death on this table."

Morgause sat up heaving for breath as he released her throat so she could speak. She could have struck him with magic, even killed him but then she'd never gain control of his armies. Not to mention, the general hated magic users. If she revealed her powers he would never trust her.

She spoke between frantic breaths, "I… did… you a favor."

"By destroying my heir!"

"By having you kill Freya I've forever freed you from the original Cenred, the weak Cenred," She explained. "He loved her. She was his one glimmer of hope and without her…"

"He's gone forever," The General concluded. "But in ridding us of him you've also destroyed my heir." Cenred reached for one of the swords that crisscrossed over his back. He would slice off her clothes, rape her repeatedly, and then run his blade across her throat. He had to kill Morgause. There was no getting around it. She had lied to him and now the future of Rome was at stake.

"Allow me a chance to wake Prince Myrddin," She spoke quickly.

Cenred dropped the handle. The heavy sword slid back into its sheath, "And how do you plan on doing that…"

xXx

_My Immortal_

Merlin lies in a world all his own completely oblivious to his surroundings. His heart will not allow him to face the cold stabbing reality that Freya is gone forever. She can't be. She is his love, his life, his immortal. He will stay in this haven forever; a place they will always be together. Right now nothing bad is happening. Right now they are nestled between the sheets for the first time. He is on top of her, the blunted tip of his erection at the barrier that separates friend from lover.

He places a kiss upon her forehead and whispers, "I love you Freya and god knows I want this, but it's not too late to go back to being friends. If you allow me to break this barrier we can never go back."

She places her hand on the back of his head, slips her tongue into his mouth kissing him with such a passion that his hips push forward without a command from his brain. His mind is whirling, dizzy from lust, and passion and wanton need; she cries out in pain as he tears through her maiden head and he knows at this point that he's broken her. Her nails rake across his back as he pushes further inside and once he is fully sheathed in her wet heat he dares look upon her. He freezes and doesn't move seeing the shock and pain on her face, guilt flooding his mind at the thought that something that feels so wonderful to him could cause the woman he loves so much pain. He wipes a single tear from her cheek.

"You will not harm me," She vows as if she's read his mind.

_My strong Freya,_He smiles placing his lips upon hers, lying between her knees, thrusting slowly and ever so gently while they're tongues intertwine…

_I'm so tired of being here, suppressed by all my childish fears  
And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave  
Your presence still lingers here and it won't leave me alone_

_These wounds won't seem to heal, this pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase_

_When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have all of me_

Freya woke up in a cozy bed to the blazing blue eyes of the man she loves. Myrddin was dressed strangely, like a commoner, in black britches. A red shirt peeked out from underneath his plain brown waist coat. A blue scarf tied around his neck. His image was blurry at first before eventually coming into focus. She sat up at once. Threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

As her tears of relief ran onto his jacket he whispered, "We're on a ship destined for the Britain isle. There is a young king who truly cares for Guinevere. As such his kingdom is the only one willing to harbor us. His name is…"

"Arthur," Freya finished his sentence remembering the words of Daniel.

Myrddin gave her an intrigued look, "I guess news of this new kingdom has traveled swiftly. They're calling it Camelot."

Myrddin took Freya's hand and explained, "Gwen and I only agreed to the marriage because we knew our wedding night would be the only time we would be left alone for long enough to escape. I wanted to tell you what we were planning so badly but my father is not a stupid man. If your grief over my marriage wasn't genuine he would've seen right through us and the plan would have been foiled."

"I understand," Freya assured him gingerly caressing his face.

He closed his eyes swooning in her heavenly touch. She quickly withdrew her hand as she remembered the harsh reality of the situation, "You belong to another."

Myrddin confessed, "I didn't consummate my marriage. Which means Geoffrey can still grant an annulment."

"Thank god," Freya said tearfully hugging him again. I thought I'd lost you forever.

Myrddin shook his head, "And I thought I told you that if I broke your barrier we can never go back. Guinevere may be destined to be the greatest queen the world has ever known, but she is not destined to be my wife."

Freya found herself speechless, breathless, as Myrddin pulled out a tiny gold band. He climbed down on his knees at her bedside, looking up into her beautiful brown eyes as he said, "Will you marry me Freya?"

Her tears flowed as she coughed the words, "A thousand times yes."

He rose and wrapped his arms around her as they sealed their betrothal with a loving and passionate kiss…

_You used to captivate me by your resonating light  
Now, I'm bound by the life you left behind  
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me_

_These wounds won't seem to heal, this pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase_

_When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have all of me_

Freya took in a sharp breath at the soreness Merlin had unintentionally caused. They'd made love before but never like this. He was an animal tonight but a twice satisfied Freya had no complaints. They lay on their sides facing one another their bodies shining in the moonlight with a subtle sheen of perspiration. He caressed her curves dreamily with a whole new appreciation as she gingerly ran her fingers over the sweaty skin of his chest and stomach.

Freya took a deep breath, she'd finally calmed him and now it was time to tell him the truth, "You know how you said you never wanted children because you were concerned with them bearing the burden of magic."

"Yes that's why you're taking herbs to prevent it," Merlin grinned. "Thank you. Those herbs are a godsend."

Freya swallowed hard, "I missed a day."

"What do you mean?"

"I got busy and forgot to take my herbs one day and… and… I'm pregnant. I'm so sorry."

All the color drained from Merlin's slender face as her symptoms raced around his mind. Ice water flowed through the veins of his petrified body at the prospect of having a child with magic, a child who would be hunted and persecuted merely for being different, a child who would have to hide who they are their entire life. He wrapped his shaking arms around her tight but couldn't find words, there were no words for what he was feeling.

"Please say something," Freya broke down and cried in his arms, "I've never been so scared in my life."

"It's alright," He kissed her forehead. "And you have no reason to be sorry. We didn't plan it but things will work out." He wiped her tears not fully believing his own words, "There's no reason to cry. We're having a baby Freya."

"We're having a baby." She smiled through her tears.

She hugged him tight putting kisses all over his face while he grinned emphatically, both terrified to be parents but grateful to have each other…

_I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone  
But though you're still with me, I've been alone all along_

_When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have all of me…_

xXx

Cenred held Myrddin's tiny fussing baby in his arms, a little boy that bore the spitting image of his mother.

"This better work," Cenred threatened Morgause.

"The doctor said Myrddin needs a glimmer of hope," Morgause reminded him. "Can you think of a better one?"

"Yes actually," Cenred spoke over the soft cries of the baby. "A new wife with a pretty face and very nice tits is a glimmer of hope, not a screaming brat."

"Prince Myrddin isn't you," Morgause snarled in disgust. _The General is like a walking erection._

Cenred entered the room and sat next to his son, "I've brought someone to see you."  
The baby quieted as if sensing the presence of his father. Cenred folded Myrddin's limp arms around the little one and aided him in holding the infant.

Cenred spoke to his son, "Forgive me Myrddin. I honestly thought you were under a spell. I made a mistake in taking your wife from you but our people need their prince. I need my son. And this little one needs his father. If you are still in there somewhere please give me a sign, any shred of hope that says you can hear me."

A single tear trickled down Merlin's cheek and he turned his head to place a loving kiss on the soft skin of his child's forehead.

"Thank Gods!" Cenred exclaimed.

As Merlin's arms fell limp and his distant gaze returned Cenred could tell the conversation was over but at least there was hope. Cenred rose and took Merlin's little one back to the wet-nurse.

xXx

Back in Camelot Arthur and Gwen stood anxiously upon the bustling docks. Merlin had been taken by his father so most of the other kingdoms didn't see a reason to get involved. In their eyes Cenred had every right to retrieve his wayward son. But Arthur and Gwen explained that Cenred and Morgause now had the greatest warlock of all time within their clutches. It would only be so long before they broke Merlin and turned him wicked, used him to take over the world. The last thing anyone needed was a rogue warlock wreaking havoc so every kingdom in Britain sent their entire fleets to Rome. 1000 ships in all.

Gwen's hands were shaking and Arthur sandwiched them between his warm palms to steady them.

Gwen spoke still in a state of utter shock, "Do you believe Morgana's terrible vision could be true?"

"I hope not," Arthur shuttered at the heinous thought. "For now we have to rescue Merlin. We have to save the world. Will you join me Guinevere?"

"Did you even have to ask," Gwen smiled up at him despite her strife.

Arthur smirked, "Who would have thought the face that launched 1000 ships would be Merlin's ugly mug?"

"Arthur!" Gwen exclaimed and swatted him on his mail-clad chest as she laughed at her husband's inappropriate joke. _It takes a hell of a man to make me laugh at a time like this. I love you so much Arthur._

Even in perilous times they loved one another with a passion unequaled by the gods themselves. They're lips met in the center of the busy port, kissing with all the fiery passion in their souls, all the love and tenderness within their pounding hearts for they would soon board a vessel destined for Rome. They would soon charge into battle to take on Caesar and save the world. Arthur and Gwen knew not if they would survive a war with the fiercest army of all time. And they knew not if they could out strategize the greatest military mind the world has ever seen. But whether they won or lost, failed or triumphed, lived or died they had vowed to do it together...

**Any suggestions for the name of the Freylin baby? ****Will Gwen and Arthur reach Merlin before its too late? Will the destiny of Albion survive this war? Stay Tuned...**

******-Embrasia-**


	10. A Test of Honor

A Test of Honor

Elegant harps and trumpets and piccolos floated throughout the party as an orchestra of satyrs enchanted the gods with their music. These half man half goat beings pranced about playing beautiful melodies. All of Mount Olympus celebrated with drink and dance and merriment… all but the guest of honor. Freya wandered forlornly through her vast gathering numbly accepting congratulations from an ocean of toga wrapped gods and goddesses whirling all around her, divine light gleaming off of their crowns of golden leaves. Her parents were beaming with happiness to have their daughter back. They were so proud of her they couldn't cease gossiping to the other deities. Freya had bestowed upon her the divine duty of being Avalon's Immortal Lady of the Lake.

This was Freya's coronation week and it felt as if she was standing in the center of the ceremony screaming in anguish but no one could hear her. _How could everyone be so blind to my pain, so deaf to my cries of agony? When Alator first informed me I was prophesized to be the immortal lady of the lake I refused to believe it. But after my mortal form died I remembered everything. I was sent to earth as a test of honor, to prove I belonged among immortals, a quest every young deity must triumph over. _

Freya numbly nodded as her aunt Aphrodite obliviously congratulated her on losing her husband, her son, everything. Freya saw her uncle Zeus. She dove behind a large marble pillar. It was too late. She'd been spotted.

"You dropped this," Zeus said as he held up her crown of shimmering Laurel leaves.

"I don't want it," Freya snapped.

"But it is yours my dear," Zeus dutifully informed her and gingerly adjusted the leafy golden crown upon her head. "Are you still angry with me dear niece?"

"I hate you," She spoke with tears pooling in her large brown eyes. "I didn't even complete my quest. I failed to kill Cenred. So why am I here?! Send me back!"

Zeus wiped her tears and shuffled her off to a small chamber full of artwork and pottery, "Freya I told you that your quest was to kill Caesar, but that was a lie and a test in itself."

She sniffled, "I don't understand."

"The true quest was to prove that you were pure of heart," Zeus explained. "You refused to kill even the most wicked of men, whom you knew was destined to take your life. If you're not worthy of true divinity then I don't know who is my dear." He smiled so proud of her and kissed her forehead.

"Why did I have to die so young?"

"You're not dead. You're immortal. You can't die."

"Oh really? Tell that to my poor husband and son. Tell that to my brother! Oh gods how is Kilgharrah going to take this?! I'm sure it feels to them like I am dead."

"In regard to the mortal shell you surrendered to serve a much greater purpose as Lady of the Lake; when I informed my brother Poseidon, your father, that you would have to complete the same quest as every young deity he was outraged. He demanded that you serve a term on earth no longer than twenty mortal years. Your mother was in agreement with him, and that Calypso is not to be trifled with."

Freya laughed despite her tragic situation knowing full well that her mother could be as ferocious as she was lovely and charming. This was the very reason her father fell for Calypso and together they ruled the seas.

Zeus went on to say, "Even you pleaded with me for a short stent on earth. I told you all to be careful what you wished for but…"

"I remember now uncle." Freya sighed long and deep regretting her previous pleas for a short mortal life. "I don't want to be here," She wept softly and he pulled her to his massive chest. "I don't want to be here!"

"But it is where you belong Freya," He soothingly rubbed his nieces back as tears filled his own eyes. Being king of the Gods often meant making tough decisions for the greater good. "I recall a time when you didn't want to leave your mother and father to live among humans. But you found things you loved about them. Remember the things you love about us."

She pulled away from him, "My son is nursing. He needs his mother. I know it breaks every rule but can I bring him to Avalon for just the first year."

"Merlin needs that boy to remind him of his purpose, of who he is," Zeus informed her. "But in the event that Merlin can regain his strength and sense of duty you may take the baby to Avalon. Not a moment before and the second your little one is off the tit he goes back to earth. He isn't one of us."

"Yes milord," Freya hugged her uncle ecstatically, grateful for just that bit of time she'd be granted.

At last seeing a smile on her face, Zeus straightened her leafy crown and led her back to the party. Freya hated when her uncle was right but her duty to protect the other six elements of Albion and ensure the bright future they would bring, far surpassed her want to live among them…

xXx

The pouring rain made tinking noises as it hammered the armor of the men. British knights lined the Roman countryside as far as the eye could see and they were still out numbered ten to one by Roman soldiers. Under an umbrella of rolling gray storm clouds and heavy rain Gwen stood at Arthur's side waiting for King Sarrum and his men to return with the terms of Merlin's release. They knew Emperor Cenred wouldn't give up his only son easily. So the once and future couple were just hoping they could pay the wicked Caesar off with gold or land or whatever it took to ensure the safe return of Merlin and the baby. Arthur and Gwen were equipped to do the negotiating but an arrogant leader such as Sarrum would not rank second in command to a bastard illegitimate king like Arthur. Sarrum insisted upon calling all the shots and performing the negotiation himself. Arthur and Gwen cared not for glory but for the safety of Merlin and the future of their people. So they allowed Sarrum to take the reins and now they awaited his return.

"I'm proud of you Arthur," Gwen said amidst the bellowing of thunder while cold rain streamed down her face. "I know you're used to being in charge..."

Arthur smiled at his rain dampened wife. She looked so adorable in her miniature armor, full ready to face any obstacle with him. As lightening cracked in the distance lighting up the dreary skies Arthur confessed, "Guinevere, it matters not to me if it is a white cat or a black cat so long as it catches mice. If Sarrum needs the glory of leading a revolt against Rome then so be it, as long as the goal of saving Merlin and the little one is achieved."

"I couldn't agree more," She mused. "We are here for Merlin, not ourselves."

Gwen looked around at their brave company of knights. A glint of pity flickered in her eye for Sir Kay who refused to believe his sister was dead. He had bound life forces with Freya many years ago, that way if she was ever in danger he would know to come running. When she hurt he would feel her pain. When she was terrified he would feel her fear. So naturally if he was alive that meant she had to be alive. But Gwen knew that Freya had secretly unbound forces with Kay after he walked in on an intimate moment between Freya and Merlin. Kay felt his sister's heart racing and naturally assumed she was in danger. He ran to her aid and everyone involved was extremely embarrassed. Freya knew she had to disconnect their life forces at that point. She didn't want her brother to worry so she never told him.

The storm cleared at last. Gwen and Arthur began to walk forward at the glimmer of a leafy golden crown. Caesar was wearing armor that looked like a gleaming mold of his chest with a long cape hanging down the back of him. Helios and an entourage of guards marched at all side of him. They bore the same heavy chest plate and cape. Only instead of a crown they brandished shining helmets that appeared to have a red broom sticking right down the middle. At this point Arthur noticed Cenred looked very thin… too thin. It wasn't Cenred at all.

"It's Merlin!" Gwen exclaimed.

"He's okay!" Arthur happily concluded as he closed the distance between them.

With a hand motion from Merlin his retinue soldiers spun sharply on their heels and parted way for Arthur and Gwen.

"We've come to take you home Merlin," Arthur informed him.

"I am home," Merlin spoke dryly and without emotion. "I'm Roman remember? Thank you for coming to my rescue but I can assure you that I am fine. Please climb in your boats and go back to Britian with my compensation for your long journey."

Helios placed a heavy chest of jewels at Arthur's feet. Arthur bypassed the treasures, "I need to speak to Emperor Cenred. You are not yourself my friend."

Merlin insisted in the same emotionless tone, "I'm fine."

"Mer…" Gwen caught herself. "Prince Myrddin with all due respect you are not fine milord." She reached out to touch Merlin's arm but he withdrew from her as if he didn't even remember who she was.

A worried Arthur pulled his wife back. This was not their happy go lucky Merlin, and a nagging voice was warning Arthur to be careful. Arthur insisted, "You may have been born here but this is not your home. Please ask your father to grant us an audience."

Merlin released an exasperated breath, "If you insist upon this needless meeting I would like to do it over dinner rather than in the rain."

Gwen breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you your majesty."

Arthur asked cautiously, "Will Sarrum and his men be joining us?" Arthur didn't care for King Sarrum but now was not the time for the Britain kingdoms to be fighting amongst themselves. Arthur had to make certain that Cenred had not killed the messenger. "Prince Myrddin… Prince Myrddin…"

"Milord," Merlin looked up as if just now hearing him.

"Will Sarrum and his men be joining us for dinner," Arthur asked judging the movements of Merlin's face to gauge the truth.

"Yes of course," Merlin nodded and turned to Gwen with an outstretched hand. "Right this way milady."

"Did the earlier negotiation go well?" Gwen asked.

"Quite Milady," Merlin said as they made their way to Caesar's Palace; His troubled mind drifted back to the earlier meeting with King Sarrum…

Sarrum took a seat at one end of the dinner table to assert his importance of course. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the wood while waiting for his guards to join him. He knew they had the tendency to get a little distracted by serving girls but this was ridiculous. This was embarrassing. His guards were like brothers to him so he'd allowed them to get away with murder over the years but moments like this made Sarrum aware that it was time to crack down on them. Atop the lunch table sat five large silver platters, covered by dome lids. Merlin walked in from the kitchen with a sixth platter.

Sarrum laughed smugly, "Don't you have serving girls, Prince of Rome?"

"This one was heavy," Merlin explained. "I didn't want her dropping it." He set it down before Sarrum and took a seat.

"That sort of sentiment will get you nowhere," Sarrum tissed. "Fetch Caesar boy so we can get on with this?"

Merlin fumed, _This arrogant bastard is ordering me around in my own castle! Speaking to me as if I didn't just lose my wife!_

Sarrum gazed at the platter before him. "I'm starving. I may have to start without your father and the others."

"Well you're the boss," Merlin sneered forcing a smile for him.

Sarrum lifted the lid off the platter. A black snake shot out. It struck Sarrum's throat; sinking its' poisonous fangs deep into his flesh. In a matter of seconds the snake bit him twice more on the face.

As he cried out in agony Merlin rose from his seat and slammed his palms on the table. The prince announced vehemently. "You have ten minutes to live; so you listen and you listen well! I will burn your entire kingdom and every other that condones the persecution of my kind!"

Sarrum's face began to swell with venom and bruise. He writhed in pain and cried out. "Prince Myrddin! Cenred killed your wife not me! Please call a physician!"

Merlin replied with a deranged look in his eyes. "It was an attitude that killed my Freya, an entire way of thinking. Not just one man."

Sarrum pleaded as his face grew more swollen and distorted. "I will change things if you just give me a chance!"

Merlin gave a sinister smile. "Before you leave this earth, I just want you to know that your friends, your brothers, did join you for lunch today."

Sarrum screamed in horror as Merlin walked around the table flinging off the lids of the five other platters. The grotesque severed heads of Sarrum's lifelong friends stared back at him.

As poison coursed through the veins of the vile king he called out. "You'll never get away with this! Caesar will ring your neck for killing a messenger! There are rules to war! You never harm the messenger! Caesar's going to rain hell itself upon you!"

Merlin plopped down in his father's seat and kicked his feet up on the table, "Didn't you hear the news? I am Caesar."

Sarrum fell over on the table. Blood tinged foam spewed from his mouth. As he gagged, jerked, and took his final breath, Merlin felt a modicum of peace but it wasn't enough. He had to kill more men like Sarrum, he had to avenge Freya. With Morgause as Merlin's bride to be, and an immortal army at their command, they would take the entire world by storm…

Gwen stared at Merlin as they trudged through the mud and the rain. She noticed how Cenred's top guards and councilors were now at Merlin's beck and call. With an icy cold shiver she took her husband's hand.

"It's alright Guinevere," Arthur whispered. "We're going to talk to Caesar."

"Arthur my love," Her voice trembled. "I'm beginning to think we already are."

"But that would mean…"

"Cenred's dead Arthur," Gwen breathed in horror.

All the color drained from Arthur's face, "The only Caesar we're saving Merlin from is himself."

They needed help to prevent a worldwide war, divine help. But where oh where was their lady of the lake…

xXx

Freya wandered the empty corridors of Zeus' palace on Mt. Olympus wishing that she could see her baby boy, wishing she could communicate with Merlin. But her portal to the mortal world was through its bodies of water and she would not have the powers to breach the mortal realm until her divinity rituals were complete. This would take days. She didn't have days.

Only Zeus, his wife Hera, and their two awful kids lived on Mt. Olympus year round. The rest of the gods and goddesses resided close to the realms they governed. Freya and her parents resided in Avalon and came to Mount Olympus for sake of events such as this one.

She roamed the halls weeping at the knowledge that Merlin needed her, and not being able to do a thing about it. _I can wait no longer! Merlin needs me! Arthur and Gwen need me! _Her sandals clackity clacked across the marble floors as she rushed down the corridor. She would throw herself at Zeus and Poseidon's feet if that's what it took. She needed them to put a rush on her divinity. She skid to a stop. Froze in horror at a familiar face. It was Sarrum. Now she understood why he gave her the creeps when she lived on earth, why he always smelled of brimstone, why she recognized his face.

"Hades," She murmured with a tremor in her voice.

"Ahhh it feels wonderful to be called by name again," Sarrum grinned.

"If you are here that means your mortal form died," She concluded. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer fellow," She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't have expected you to show up on my coronation week."

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm not here to congratulate you. I'm here to collect on a debt… or rather a soul."

She backed away with furrowed eyebrows, "Who's soul?"

He grinned baring every oily black tooth in his evil head, "Yours. Don't you remember?"

A sea of choppy memories came washing over Freya like a tidal wave. She recalled a deal she made years ago. Merlin was dying of the measles. Gaius had informed her and Cenred to prepare for what was to come because Merlin wouldn't make it through the night. Out of desperation and love Freya made a deal, a terrible deal. Her soul for Merlin's life.

"Please no," she implored as she backed away from the lord of the underworld. "You know not the chaos that will ensue if you hinder me from helping Arthur! Innumerable people are going to die!"

"More souls for me."

Freya's words fell upon deaf ears. Her wails muffled by Sarrum's magic. He drug her kicking and screaming through the majestic portal to the depths of the underworld…

xXx

Merlin needed to hear Freya's voice. Arthur needed his Lady of the Lake. Freya needed her remains cast into the Lake of Avalon in order to be freed of Hades' grasp. Sarrum was determined to make damn certain that no one received what they needed. Sarrum drew his powers from the tortured souls of the underworld. His supply would diminish and dry up if a peaceful time of Albion came to pass. The souls would find inner peace and drift out of purgatory. He would cease to exist. Sarrum was determined not to go out like that even if he had to destroy the seven elements of Albion one by one. He had Freya within his grasp and next would be Queen Guinevere. Gwen didn't know it yet but her loving king had gotten her pregnant, and Sarrum was going to see to it that this pregnancy would bring about her doom. Gwen's baby was not growing in her womb. Sarrum had coaxed it into her fallopian tube, a deadly condition that would claim the lives of both mother and child…


End file.
